


The Stars Were Not Enough

by kalika_999, Neutralchaos



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [90]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Tension, Breaking Up & Making Up, Brock Rumlow Needs a Hug, Captain America Big Bang 2019 | cabigbang, Family Dynamics, Frottage, Grinding, Growing Up Together, HYDRA Husbands, Heartache, Idiots in Love, Learning Disabilities, Lies, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Mood Swings, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Protective Natasha Romanov, Sexual Content, Slurs, Speech Disorders, Stuttering, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-15 11:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 85,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/pseuds/Neutralchaos
Summary: It's been two years since Brock's been anywhere near Jack after their break up, let alone in the same house on some private island.  But now that his two best friends are getting married, he's going to have to try dealing with it.It should be easy.  They've both moved on and he's made himself a better life without him.  The feelings he once had are long gone and it was really just a silly infatuation anyway, not love.Right?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) I've been lucky enough to collaborate with my friendo [Neutralchaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neutralchaos/) for the 2019 Captain America Big Bang! She has blessed us with not one but two wonderful pieces of art that capture moments in the story beautifully so please enjoy them just as much as I have, and please visit her art blog [here!](https://chaosdraws.tumblr.com/) :) 💙💙💙
> 
> 2.) A very special thanks indeed to the awesome [Hydra_Trash_Gal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal) for the beta! (And for crying in the notes while I glared at my writing lol) 💙💙💙
> 
> 3.) A thank you also goes to my trash panda soulmate [Quillofchoice/Ineswrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineswrites) for the name of Jack's business, no spoilers. lol I💙U
> 
> 3.) And to all my friends who constantly cheer me on and support me, especially when I hate on myself and in extension the story, especially when I wanted to delete it numerous times. (We all know I wouldn't lol) You all know who you are. 💙💙💙

  


The door creaked, just slightly. Hallway light spilled onto the floor and colored the darkened apartment with a fuzzy yellow the wider the arc of the doorway went. Brock opened an eye, lifting his head just slightly off his arm, blinking a few times to the adjustment. The shadowy but distinct figure in the doorway causing him to sit up a bit further.

Jack stood there watching him, his weight pressed along the frame and it was slight, but there was an unsteadiness to him that Brock’s seen a few times already, only when he’d been drinking. It was suddenly too warm, Brock shoving his blanket aside as he sat up straighter, the heel of his hand rubbing at one eye trying to accurately read the situation. One of Jack’s shoes was partially inside and the other was still parked in the hallway making no attempt to move any further in.

“The hell ya doin’ out there standin’ like that?” Brock wondered, frowning a bit as he yawned. “Get yer ass inside and close the door, yer blindin’ me with that goddamn annoyin’ light out there.”

Jack only stared back at him, blinking once slowly but aside from that, not moving in any obvious direction. Brock glared at him trying to figure out exactly what was going on or if he missed something important, his patience running thin. Jack not having any sort of answer was different, he’d either egg him on or tolerate it with a shrug and allow him to have his way. Whatever it was, Brock was tired and he didn’t have time for this mess, even if he had been waiting up for Jack. The man didn’t have to know that, emitting an annoyed sound before dropping back against the couch. “Fine, be a drunk prick. See if I fuckin’ care. I gotta train in- ”

“For what?” Jack shot back, abruptly alive and alert. “For another hapless bum agreeing to get his ass beat down for a twenty? Isn’t that what always happens at your so-called fights, Brock? Take out your daddy issues on some stranger then feel good about the measly pocket change you made because you can’t book anything better? Then come home and bitch to me about how you can’t make it?”

Brock gaped at him.  


He watched how Jack leaned in further but his hand was still tethered to the outer frame of the doorway. None of the words were new to him, Jack had said it a few times when things got heated because Brock loved to push when he was backed into a corner, it was just this time he wasn’t.  


Dragging a hand across his face then palming the back of his neck, he avoided the way Jack glared at him, body clearly poised to keep this momentum going and he had good instinct to. On most days, Brock was ready for a fight. Tonight though, he was exhausted and despite the fact that Jack only started something, _especially when drunk_, because he had a point to make..Brock really didn’t care this time around. They could talk about it in the morning if it meant that much to him.

He missed the days when Jack would come home and never had to say a word; it was in his body language and he’d kiss him before words even bothered to come. He would hold him as if he was everything he was looking for and tell him so. They’d lose themselves in each other’s gaze when they fell into bed and Jack would whisper perfect little confessions into his ear until they both fell asleep.

It had been almost a month since his boyfriend had been like that with him though.

“Yer fuckin’ drunk. Go the hell ta bed, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” He wanted to put in a couple of jabs but he chose against it, bit his tongue because he felt like it was something he just shouldn’t encourage tonight.

Jack still refused to budge, continuing to stare at him with a slight sway. He’d been coming home later, sometimes drunker, sometimes sober. Brock couldn’t figure out the reason and he wasn’t one to have his eye on someone else but clearly he was _different_. That much was obvious.

Brock didn’t see what it could have been. He dropped everything to help Jack when he was at his lowest, moved in together because they were serious about each other and he had to make sacrifices so they were okay. Then Jack found something better for himself, a job that suited their needs and paid much more. Brock had always been there to cheer him on but now all of a sudden, something seemed off. All he could assume was the added responsibility was getting to him and it had to be that, it was the only thing.

“Yeah because fuck everyone else for wantin’ to celebrate a win fer me.” Brock tried his best to tramp down the anger building up inside of him, but he could feel his body shaking. “Them ones ya can’t even _try_ to come see, sorry if they’re too damn low brow fer the likes of _you_.”

“Right.” Jack shook his head, his body finally allowing him to step inside, door ajar but he was closer, almost within arms reach. “You used to be one of those people too, or did you just give up caring anymore?”

The challenging tone pushed Brock to sit up again, straighter and swallowing down words he didn’t want to shout out at him that instinct was prodding him so to do. It was then that he saw a tinge of red in Jack’s eyes and around them, the blotches across his cheeks and along his nose. He didn’t know what caused all of it, but he instinctively wanted to pull Jack in, keep him in place with him until they were gone.

He stopped himself from doing it though, exhaling a soft sigh as he leaned up against the couch. “Jack, go to bed. M’too tired for this shit.”

That seemed to only make Jack retreat a step back towards the door, his coat grasped close together suddenly. Brock white knuckled the blanket in response, refraining from saying something that would antagonize the situation further despite how irritated he was becoming.

“Yeah, so am I.” Jack finally said, his tone flat, almost like he had given up and suddenly there was a thick tension in the air Brock never noticed before, something unnerving and dangerous. It reminded him of when he was a kid and his shitty life with his dad. He buried the urge to dwell on all of that again, whatever this was though, Jack wasn’t finished and it put Brock on edge.

“Jack,” He said carefully, unsure of exactly how to lay it out. “Whatever it is, yer some kinda drunk. In the mornin’, whatever it is, we’ll talk about it then.”

“W-we can’t, Brock. I don’t- ” Jack’s voice shook and he looked away with a jerk of his head, taking a small breath. “We can’t do this anymore. I-I don’t love you. I can’t- ”  


He stopped himself and pressed his lips together as if he was trying to gather his thoughts in the right order.

Brock stared at him, he could see how Jack was trembling lightly, a nervous tick he had from when he was a kid. Back when he stuttered badly when he was much too upset and words came out in a tumble, verbally switched around and sometimes a mess. Mostly he’d grown out of it but he could see it was fighting its way back to have a place in between them.

“Jack- ” Brock started.

“_No_.” Jack hissed, too pitched all of a sudden like when he was a kid again and was letting his impediment get the best of him. That woke Brock up a little bit more. “I told you, we c-can’t. I d-don’t love you and I’m only h-I’m only h-here to get my things.” His hand formed a fist, clearly struggling to keep his words straight. “I won’t come back, I’ve m-made a decision.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Brock growled, finally losing the last of his patience. “This ain’t funny no more.”

Jack moved then, quick and focused. It was like he had a plan all along and Brock realized he did as he watched dumbfounded while Jack started in the closet and gathered some items into a large duffel bag. It was almost like Brock was outside looking in, the calculated way Jack never stopped to consider this or that, like he knew exactly what to take and where it was.  


It took Brock way too long to realize this wasn’t something Jack had just thought about, that he’d planned this for God knows how long.

“Jack, ya wanna slow down a bit an’ tell me what the hell’s goin’ on? I feel like there’s somethin’ else brewin’ ‘ere!”

Instead of stopping, Jack only pressed on, slipping into their bathroom before there were sounds of him rummaging through one of the cabinets. When he came back and completely ignored him for the bookshelf, Brock was beyond pissed.

“Jack.” Brock warned.

The obvious fact that this was all intentional dug deeper and hurt the longer he let it fester. There was a pang of aching sadness over the fact that he probably thought of this for days and possibly weeks. Something clenched tight in Brock’s chest at the thought of Jack staring at him while they were in the same room together, thinking about how much he couldn’t wait to leave him.  


Brock had his moments, where he’d threaten to leave Jack and Jack would ask him not to, beg him even. They had the angriest fights at those times and Jack could always get him to stay. Now with the tables turned, Jack ignored any bridge of communication Brock tried to offer.

Maybe he really did mean it. Maybe Jack really didn’t love him anymore and had been counting down the days to leave like almost everyone else in his life.

Brock pulled himself to his feet, his mind urging him to grab and fight for Jack to stay put inside _their_ place, inside their _home_, but his negative emotions were stronger than any semblance of logic. Now with the threat of being left by the one person he believed would never do that to him, he was furious.

Picking up whatever was closest to him, Brock threw it out of spite and watched as it just barely missed Jack’s skull, colliding with the wall instead and leaving a decent sized dent in the wall. The glass itself shattered into a million tiny little pieces and Jack stared down at the mess. It was only then that Brock realized he threw the framed picture of them from one of their first dates; the one he was constantly teasing Jack about putting out at the side table but secretly really did feel fond over. No matter what they were right then, Jack always loved it, he always credited it as one of the happiest days of his life.  


Brock could never take that mistake back.

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one moving for what felt like ages. Both of them were breathing a bit labored, and there was a momentary flash of hesitation in Jack’s eyes that Brock grasped so frantically to but just as quickly as it came, Jack turned away. He gave one more look over the apartment before shouldering his bag and heading for the door.

“I don’t love ya anymore either.” Brock blurted out in a fit of childish malice, trying his best to tramp down the involuntary shaking his body was beginning to do. “Yer right, this is fer the best, doin’ me a huge favor leavin’.”

Pausing at the door, Jack tilted his head to the side as if he wanted to say something but didn’t. Brock wondered if he reconsidered, if all he wanted was to fight like this so Brock begged him back and he’d change his mind; to know in some twisted way that Brock’s outburst didn’t mean anything and he really meant he couldn’t live without him. If Jack asked him for the truth, he’d be open to admit that much. Instead, Jack’s shoulders relaxed a little as he took the handle of the front door and nodded his head.

“Goodbye, Brock.”

It was the last thing he said as the door closed behind him, gentle and almost apologetic. Brock was left standing there, his body twitching in unspent energy alongside a harbor of heavy emotions. He counted down from a hundred as slowly as he could, his eyes not leaving the closed door before ultimately giving up, tearing the whole apartment apart instead.


	2. Paradise

Brock was staring out the window. He’d been drowning out most of the conversation as it was going in one ear and out the other. The pads of his fingertips occasionally traced the card sitting on the table, raised swoops of gold lettering against black, the font crisp and almost gleaming in pride over the chance to announce such a significant event.

Amazing Company  
Great Food  
Terrible Dancing

It was simple yet succinct, definitely suited for the groom and groom. He was sure Bucky had to poke and prod Steve for the black but Steve probably got the gold out of it instead of silver in return. They always had a way to compromise with things like that.

“Yeah, sounds good. I’m glad it’s all workin’ out with the bookin’s and shit.” In all honesty he had no idea what Bucky had just said and he knew he fucked up the second his friend began to laugh against his ear through the cell.

“Sure. I know all that already, but that’s not the answer I was looking for, you doofus.” Bucky tried to sound irate but Brock could tell he was grinning something fierce. “I asked how you were. _You know_, thinking of you instead of rambling on about the wedding stuff like the excellent pal that I am.”

Brock shook his head to himself as he tried to relay what he skipped through. There was flight plans and that Steve’s old family beach house was being dusted and spruced up for them; there was something about Steve almost breaking his hip that was definitely sex related and about picking up some last minute things for their suitcases as well as their suits.  


Bucky had called up to see how he was doing, ask about an upcoming fight Brock was scheduled for; he’d mentioned he saw a poster for it near the subway station and had to let him know how excited he was for him. It led to Brock’s repeated confirmation that his schedule was a hundred percent clear for the wedding and everything centering around it and Buck must have tried to reign the conversation back onto him at some point before Brock tuned him out.  


Now he was a little embarrassed at himself.

“I’m doin’ fine.” He finally assured. “Even if my pretty face gets a little busted up in this small little promo thing I’m doin, I’ll still be lookin’ handsome fer yer pictures. I heal up real quick, don’t ya worry.”

“As long as you don’t look better than I do, I’m not wo- Steve put that down!”

“What’s he doin’ now?” Brock asked, placing the invitation back down against the table again, his palm pressed against it.

“I said _no_. Over my dead fucking body will you do that, _I swear to God_. I said no! Put it away or I won’t sleep with you ever again and _yes_ I do mean it this time!”  


Brock listened in amusement, leaning his head against the backrest and propping his feet up on the chair nearby. He could hear Steve’s muffled voice in the background, too far to make out what he was saying, but he was definitely trying to be defiant with whatever it was.

“Wait.” Brock held the phone with his shoulder and ear, picking up the remote to channel surf. “He ragin’ about somethin’ wrong with the world again?”

“What?” Bucky paused, then suddenly laughed. “Sorry Brock, and yes. He is acting childish. He saw the pricing list for the cakes at the resort that’s taking care of it all and said he could bake a cake at the beach house instead. He can’t even boil water- _No Steven, you can’t_!” Bucky huffed into the receiver. “Why am I marrying him again?”

“Because you’ve loved the little fucker since you was kids, that’s why.” He rubbed a finger along the bruises forming against his knuckles. “Got a thing about guys that get their ass beat up, which is why you ain’t ever flirted with me, I was too tough fer that shit.”

That earned him another laugh from Bucky, a happy sigh escaping him and he seemed to be less wound up than he did earlier. “I did flirt with you, I flirt with everybody, but yeah. You’re right, this is why you’re my best friend, you know what to say.”

“Yeah well, if I didn’t, you’d ‘ave killed Rogers by now. I’m sure of it. Always needed some kinda buffer from time to time.” Brock smiled. “‘Sides, I ain’t in the mood to see him burn the place down fer yer sake or TJ’s.”

“Oh TJ! He’s with Clint and Nat right now, he’s so excited to see you! He can’t stop talking about it. I know you two just saw each other but you know how he gets.”

A fond smile tracing his lips, Brock couldn’t help himself. “Yeah. Tell ‘im I miss seein’ ‘im too. Soon.”

Steve said something in the background again and the phone sounded like it was pressed to Bucky’s chest just before there was a wet smack of the obvious telltale sign of kisses. It was gross. Brock shook his head at the two of them. They were so in love, and he knew they were the real deal. He was just surprised they waited this long to get married, despite how last minute it was to plan around it, he was still glad they were finally making it official.

He traced the card with his finger again, losing himself in the lettering and thinking about nothing and everything all at once.

“Brock?” Bucky piped in, his voice gentler and more careful, Brock immediately gave him his attention.

“Sorry, was tunin’ out yer make out session.” He swallowed thickly, feeling a heavy sensation across his shoulders and pulling his gaze away from the invite. He was already mentally exhausted from the phone call. “What’s up?”

“Steve wants to know if you liked the invitation, he’s been worried it looked too black tie.”

Steve shouted something again but Brock could only make out bits of barely anything.  


“Ain’t that fancy, it’s nice enough yeah but not over the top, suits ya both. Got some classiness to it because it’s yer day and the catch lines are somethin’ funny. Fits perfectly with everything. It tells ya to dress nice but yer gonna ‘ave a good time fer it.”  


He tried his best to sound more uplifting despite the odd sensation that something felt uneasy.

It was a clear struggle though. He could pull off negative emotions like anger quite well, could fake it even if he had to because he was a walking bag of fury most of his life anyway. Hell he could even do self depreciation well because it was what he did and hid it from too many, but being happy and excited? That took some real acting at times and it was something he wasn’t even close to mastering still.

“But uh, I thought these weddin’ things in other countries, what’re they called? Destination weddin’s? I thought you gotta send ‘em out earlier than jus’ a month an’ a week ahead.”

“Probably.” Bucky simply stated.  


Brock could picture him shrugging a shoulder and knew Steve was probably stressing about that too but not so much once he got to the bottom line, which was marrying Bucky. He’d wanted to do that since he was a kid.  


They were both losers. He loved ‘em to bits.

“But, it’s us. We suddenly thought it was the right time and TJ keeps askin’, it was like, well..why not? I feel like he proposed for the both of us.”

Chuckling as he kicked off his shoes, Brock agreed. “Yeah well, yer brother was always the smartest of the three of yous.”

“There’s no argument here, that’s for sure. So you’re okay right? Because I can’t do it without you here and- ”

“Yeah, stupid. I can, of course I’m gonna show up. Only fer you because no one else in this world woulda convinced me this was a great idea. I still gotta book a plane ticket to Fiji but I got my schedule cleared with my trainer and shit like that. Do I gotta buy you ingrates a gift?” He teased.

“Of course you do, but we’ll settle for you just showing up.”

“Anythin’ else I gotta plan for?”  


“Oh uh..” He could tell Bucky was suddenly hit with something he so clearly wished he didn’t remember and Brock instantly tensed. “I kinda forgot to tell you that, well..you’re my best man..”

“You’re telling him _now_?” Steve blurted out in the background and the lack of response told Brock that Bucky was making nervous hand gestures at his husband-to-be to shut the hell up.

“I’m sorry, Brock. I may have forgotten with all the whirlwind planning and you _knew_ I was going to pick you! You should have been ready for it, who else woulda been my best man?” Bucky fumbled, but Brock was already caving to the sheer panic in his voice. At least he already planned to come in for about five days anyway so it wasn’t exactly a hardship, he may be able to whip something up last minute like everyone else had been expected to do.

“Yer a huge hassle, Buck.”

“But you love me enough to be my best man, besides you promised.”

“And when did I do that?” Brock asked helplessly.

“Graduation night, you took me under your wing before we split up so I can go with Steve and it was after he said that thing about wanting our promise rings to be a real thing and you were so drunkenly happy you had to give me the talk even though you knew we’d been banging _for years_. And then I got all misty eyed and made you promise no matter what, you were going to be my best man because you were always there for us.”

“Fuck, why do ya remember things I say in the ‘eat of the moment? High school me was terrible.”

“He was, and you’re still him, though I don’t think you can drink like that anymore..at least, I really hope you don’t.”

Brock couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t.”

“Besides, you would use a vacation instead of burying yourself in work. I know you have some kind of masochist thing about getting knocked around but you owe your body a break.”

“Yeah ‘cause bein’ told last minute yer the best man at a weddin’ hosted in another country altogether definitely spells out vacation. Ain’t no way I wanna slack on my duties but there’s also no way I picture bein’ able to lounge by the pool all that time either. I need to move, ya know how I get.”  


“You could.” Bucky tried.

“Do you got some idea on what to do the night before? No? Then I gotta arrange somethin’ at least. You know this is a trainwreck waitin’ to ‘appen, yeah?”

“You don’t know that- ” Bucky started.

“I _know_ the two of ya. You jus’ wanna get married to the man of yer dreams and while maybe Steve can get things organized, he’s no expert and he’ll cave to what you like, then soon enough someone forgot the flowers and yer rings are tucked away under pairs of clean underwear while we’re all overseas. I’m surprised I got the best man thing outta ya, does Steve even have his groomsman? I already know he’s got Sam set up to be _his_ best man at least. Knowin’ Sam he probably anointed 'imself before Steve even had the chance.”

For the first time, Bucky had no smart comeback and while Brock could have assumed it was because he was correct in saying they had no real plans besides the date and a few ideas about location and paying for an island resort wedding planner to organize it all, something had changed the mood of their conversation. Even if the argument made no sense, Bucky would have still fought him about it; he’d have made excuses that they were doing things to make everything go smoothly. He’d basically bug him until Brock gave in and let him win (even if he was right), resigned to just letting it go and Bucky teasing him about how easy it was to get him to cave.

“Buck?” Brock was slowly becoming suspicious.

“You know I love you, right Brock? I wouldn’t be able to get married if you weren’t there, it’s so impor- ” Bucky began in a flurry of panic and anxiousness.

Brock deflated a little, Bucky knew him. He was clearly going to hate what he was going to tell him next. “Jus spill it, better gettin’ the bad news outta the way than listenin’ to ya backpedal about it.”

He turned off the television and checked the time, he had to get a move on and head for training soon. It might have been a good idea to get it out now so he had something to hit later, the last thing he’d want is for Bucky to give up and tell him later when he was within strangling distance.

“Well, it’s not exactly bad news.” Bucky said in the softest voice he could muster, the same voice he used when TJ broke something accidentally and Bucky was trying to calm his brother down over the sheer guilt and panic. “I’m just not sure how you’ll react and- ”

It suddenly dawned on him, like a match striking. “He’s comin’ to the weddin’. That’s what yer afraid of tellin’ me.” He felt his mouth go dry. “Ya made sure to call me as soon as you heard he confirmed.”

He felt like dry heaving. It had been a couple of years now and he still felt like he was ready to be sick at the mere thought of his name. And there was Bucky, still stepping on eggshells for his sake. Thinking _God knows what_ about their break up.

“He’s one of Steve’s groomsmen.” Because of course he would be. Brock had forgotten that he’d met Jack through Steve in the first place. Now he felt like canceling everything and being left to his own devices. Bucky carried on, apologetic. “He confirmed everything with us yesterday and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you.”

“Of course he did.” Brock sighed out, that familiar pain in his chest coming back again.

“He actually sounded excited to come, said he wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Bucky informed him, trying to keep things light when all Brock wanted to do was hang the phone up.

It was one thing to bring up Jack, it was another to hear he was just as important to them as he was and that Jack didn’t seem bothered by Brock attending at all. It proved to him that he was still that asshole who decided to leave and at least he wasn’t going to have any grand thoughts about the two of them getting back together, even if it was far from what he ultimately wanted.

There were so many negative emotions gathering up inside of him and he fought the urge to explode, scream even. He wanted to erase the whole day, fast forward to the wedding so he was there and skip to being home again. He wanted to rip up the invitation and disappear. He wanted a lot of things that he knew he couldn’t have.

“Brock, that also means something else for the beach house..”

Steve’s father had left him a beach house before he passed away, a little private piece of paradise on Turtle Island where the ceremony was taking place and it was just perfect. That was until his brain put two and two together and a frown crossed his lips. He already knew what it was before Bucky said it.

“Since he is in the wedding party, he’s going to be staying at the house too. At least there’s plenty- ”

The blood rushing to Brock’s ears tuned Bucky out for him. He was attempting to make everything easy and explainable for the situation; that they didn’t have to see each other if they chose because the place was big enough but everything was happening so fast.  


Apparently Jack had even offered to fly in on the day of the wedding and stay in Nadi, but of course Steve and Bucky wouldn’t make him do that because clearly that wasn’t fair to anyone despite Jack’s reasoning being that he was one less person to worry about on the island. It was definitely _not_ because Brock was going to be there under the same roof.

Quietly he wished Jack had pushed harder about staying in the conurbation instead of accepting the beach house, he knew it was selfish but it would have been just so much easier for him. Apparently Jack had also missed the engagement party though, so there was probably really no way he could decline requests from the happy couple.

“ -Besides, you can show him how much you’ve moved on. How good you’re doing without him.” Bucky finished off, still sounding anxious about the whole ordeal.

All Brock remembered right then was every morning he woke up beside Jack, every kiss they shared, every laugh and smile and secret glance.

After two years, those memories were still fresh in his mind like it was still happening. They had yet to fade even in the slightest.  


Despite the passing of time, Brock still occasionally reached out in the middle of the night and expected to feel the warmth of Jack’s skin; he still yearned for his fingers to brush through a mess of dark hair and feel an arm wrap tighter around him like they would never be able to let him go.

“Yeah, yer right. I bettered m’self because of what ‘appened. Knew one day with the friends we got that I’d haveta see ‘im again, so might as well be fer yer weddin’.”

Bucky didn’t respond for the longest time and it was then that Brock realized there was no background noise anymore. No Steve banging on cabinets and asking what two hundred and fifty milliliters of water was in a normal coffee mug, or where they kept the hand mixer.  


He wondered when exactly he stopped his cake tirade and if he gave up just to listen in on the phone conversation. Steve was probably trying to make sure he wasn’t falling apart at the mere mention of Jack’s name, attempting to catch any waver in his voice.  


He didn’t know how to make them both stop worrying he wasn’t going to destroy the place like before. He was done with all that, he was okay with this.

Right?

“I stopped lovin’ ‘im before we even broke up. Things were already brewin’ and now it’s all over. I moved on, so’d he.” Brock drew in a slow breath in an attempt to level himself. “It’s only fer what? Five days? That ain’t much of a stretch, m’lookin’ forward to relaxin’ with my friends and focusin’ on the special occasion.”

He hoped neither of them could hear the way his heart felt like it wanted to shatter all over again.

*****

The moment he’d touched down and off the plane, he was alert to the awaiting crowds hovering around the departure gates hoping to see their loved one soon. People were holding flowers or signs in hand, expressions eager and excited. Brock managed to make it past most of the mob, catching the large directional signs for the Baggage Claim just before a spark of red caught the corner of his eye and he couldn’t help the immediate smirk.

“Yer losin’ yer touch, Red.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, or he assumed she did behind the large pair of aviators she had on, easily sidling in beside him as they passed rows of exit doors. “I’m not losing anything, I just couldn’t be bothered. Glad you finally made it. For a second there I thought you were trying to bail out on all of us with the delayed flight excuse.”

“Nah.” He manoeuvred around a family caravan of kids trying to control an overloaded luggage cart. “Couldn’t do that to Buck. Good to get outta that cramped seat though.”

It took a few minutes for his suitcase to come down the belt, Natasha hoisting it off before Brock could have a choice in the matter and breezily took off toward the parking lot.  


“Come on, got a surprise for you. Someone insisted they tag along.”

Brock hesitated as they crossed the walkway; it was a hitch of an instinct he tried to cover up by continuing on but Natasha knew him like the back of her hand, a raise of her brow immediately calling it out. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”  


He tried to pull off a casual shrug the best he could as they approached a rental van, the side door sliding open to Clint greeting him with a huge grin.  


Someone eagerly wiggled past him and colorful sneakers hopped out, hitting the concrete with a soft smack. Pale grey blue eyes shone and his fluffy short brown hair was just as Brock remembered. Granted, it hadn’t been that long since he had seen TJ, but it always felt like a while once he’d left. Already he could feel himself smiling before he even realized it.

“Surprise Brock, I came to get you! I came to pick you up! Are you happy to see me?”

Brock swept his arms out and caught TJ as he barreled in, closing him into a tight bear hug though careful not to give him the full effect of it.  


“What a surprise, Kiddo! Of course I’m happy to see ya! Always am.”

TJ hugged him firmly, rubbing his face in like an affectionate cat against his stubble before pulling away, a pink hue blossoming against his cheek. “Bucky said I could come if Natty and Clint let me come and they said I could so I did! Bucky and Steve are getting married, isn’t that fun?! We can vacation here and Bucky bought me a book with facts about Fiji! I read it three times today! I tell everyone the facts because it’s real good to know.”

“That’s amazin’, better tell me some on the ride back, yeah?”

TJ lit up and nodded eagerly. He continued to ramble on about his own flight and how nice everything looked, instinctively grabbing a hold of Brock’s hand as he always did with whoever was in his company and they climbed into the van together.  


TJ and Bucky were twins, did anything and everything together. After their mother fell ill while she was pregnant with them, it didn’t take long to see that while Bucky seemed healthy, TJ was showing signs he wasn’t following in his sibling’s footsteps and ended up born intellectually disabled.  


It wasn’t much of a thing though really when people met him, always happy and eager to make friends. Even Brock felt uplifted when he spent a little time around TJ and all TJ would want is for everyone else to find that happiness, it was like a breath of fresh air to be in his company.

Brock nodded towards Clint as he was starting the engine once the suitcase was put away and the van pulled out of the parkade.

When they arrived at the base, Brock almost stumbled as they switched to the seaplane, Clint and Natasha grabbing at his arm before he went face first into the door. TJ worriedly eyed him as held his hand out for extra support.

“M’tired and it’s damn hot.” He muttered as a way of explaining himself and Natasha snickered behind him.

“I’m surprised you were upright when I saw you.”

He flipped her the finger behind his back so TJ didn’t see it, handing his carry on to Clint as he warily made another attempt to climb in. It didn’t help that he wasn’t a fan of flying one more time before he would finally be on solid ground for a few days, but he supposed flying was better than taking a longer ferry to the island.

He felt Natasha lightly punch him on the ass cheek and he frowned as he sat down, too lazy to retaliate and instead he glanced over to make sure TJ was seatbelted in safely before getting his own on. Dropping his head against the wall of the cabin, he let out a quiet sigh and stretched his legs out in an angle.

“Don’t get too comfortable there, we’re landing in thirty.” Clint reminded him, giving a gentle poke to his shoulder that he batted away.

“Brock, will you hold my hand?” TJ asked quietly, his fingers already slipping against Brock’s palm and he nodded, giving him a responsive squeeze back. TJ was still scared of being in new spaces, especially ones that moved but he was better than he was before and Brock was proud of him that he tried so hard to come pick him up at the airport despite having the choice to stay behind and wait.

“‘Course Kiddo. M’gonna nap though, you get too scared ya wake me up, alright?”

TJ quickly nodded, giving his hand a squeeze back and turning his head to smile at Clint and Natasha, most likely assuring himself they were all safe. Once he saw TJ settle back into his activity book, Brock let his eyes close hoping he’d be able to grab a few minutes prior to landing. The engine began and the pilot was saying something before all conversation was hollowing out and he stopped listening altogether.

He was aware of the seaplane landing at some point and he faded out again. It wasn’t until soft knuckles brushed against his cheek in a petting motion and his head slowly lifted up.

“Brock?” TJ nearly whispered close to his ear. “It’s time to wake up, we’re here.”

His eyes blearily opened, taking TJ’s hand to give the back of his hand an appreciative kiss. “I’m up, thanks Kiddo.”

After getting onto the shore and a much too energetic _Welcome Home_ from a Fijian welcome party consisting with offerings of fresh coconut water still in half shells, seashell necklaces and many introductions, they were carted off to the property. Relief overcame him, not that Brock was ungrateful over all the hospitality, he was just really jetlagged.

The sight of the beach house surrounded by a warm breeze got a smile out of him, the front black gates opened for visitors arriving while a guard stood at the small post giving them all a friendly wave.  


The island was mostly a couples only honeymoon type of vacation getaway but because of Steve’s dad, he also owned a small part of it which meant the beach house was ready for the Rogers’ to take it over whenever they had the time to get away.  


It had been a long while since Brock had been there last, finishing off his coconut water before handing it over to their driver. Though he was only sixteen at the time, it felt like nothing had changed. It was the only property on the island that didn’t look like a bure, or a hut, and most of the overgrown trees and foliage around it blocked vacationers from catching a glimpse of the two story home that sat at a cliff end overlooking crystal blue waters.

Bucky and Steve waited eagerly as TJ hopped out the moment the golf cart (the only way to get around on the island) stilled and they all climbed out, their driver hauling Brock’s suitcase out from the back.

“You made it in one piece!” Bucky exclaimed, arms out as Brock set his carry on down and looked around in a momentary daze. He still felt like he was dreaming and with a roll of eyes, Bucky grappled him in a hug.

It only got tighter when Steve swept himself into the fold and then TJ, there was an _aww_ from someone else before he was squished tighter into Bucky’s arms.

“Ugh, I hate all of you.”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah, tell us something we don’t know. Now come on inside, it’s air conditioned and you look like you’re about two seconds from passing out.”  


Humming in agreement, Brock followed the collective group inside. Bucky was right, the air wasn’t muggy and too hot inside, it wasn’t like walking into a deep freezer but it was comfortable and he was very grateful, absently wiping a little bit of sweat collected at his upper lip.  


He almost tripped out of his shoes, Bucky’s arm slipping around his waist after leaving his shoulders and he leaned in for the support. “Easy there.”

“Should I be seein’ who’s- ” Brock slurred, unsure of his motor functions at the time. He usually ran on a strict schedule and right now his body was telling him he was about two hours late for bed if he was still in New York.

“Let's just get you rested up first. You can see everyone later, they won’t disappear.” Bucky coaxed. “The last thing we need is for you to fall face first into your lunch or something.”

He was practically squinting by the time they made it through towards the bedrooms, Bucky shouldering Brock against the wall to get the guest room door. “Why are you making my job harder huh? You know I only have one arm.”  


Brock waved him off, face mashed against the wall until Bucky had a hold of him again and was chuckling by his ear. “You’re terrible.”

“I am.” Brock agreed, letting his head fall against Bucky’s shoulder. “I love ya, Buck. Happy to be ‘ere.”  


Snickering, Bucky gave him an affectionate squeeze. “I love you too and same, I’m glad you’re here too, Brock.”

He felt himself be dropped against a neatly made bed, barely catching Bucky placing his carry on by a chair and someone else coming in with his suitcase. He only cared to get his feet up and his head on a pillow, groaning in happiness when he managed to get situated.

“Now, you only get a couple hours before I send TJ to wake your butt up. Okay?”

Brock grumbled in affirmation, nodding and waving them off again. He felt a familiar hand hold his and a kiss press to his skull, giving the person a friendly squeeze back. “Thanks, and Teej, be gentle with me. No jumpin’.”

TJ giggled, slipping his hand out of Brock’s and tugging at his thumb before leaving the room. “Okay Brock!”  


Two hours later Brock was still in the same position he fell asleep in, most of his face pressed against a plush pillow with his nose just turned enough so he could breathe properly. He could hear when the door opened and feet crossed the wood floor, a weight resting down against the edge of the bed by his stomach.  


“Brock? It’s lunch time, Mama Frances is setting the food out in ten minutes she said.” TJ’s knuckles gently brushed against his cheek as he always did when waking someone and he turned his head to it, sleepily smiling.

“M’awake Kiddo.”  


The sun was filtered through the sliding glass doors and he groaned a little over forgetting to pull the curtains before he passed out. He supposed it didn’t really matter anymore, pulling himself to sit up and feeling TJ’s hand lightly hold at his shoulder to gently guide him like he needed the assistance.  


“Did you have a good nap, Brock?”

Letting out one last yawn, Brock stretched his arms over his head and loosened up his shoulders, turning to look at his friend with a smile. “I hope so. To tell ya the truth, I barely even remember passin’ out.”  


He pulled himself from the bed and his head still felt a bit fuzzy, body protesting faintly to being on two legs so soon. He forced himself to move, sure from the distant sound of a voice or two somewhere close that others had probably arrived or had been and he wasn’t doing anything helpful if he slept all day.

He approached the full length mirror and fixed his hair a little, the cockatiel style he usually sported currently had no lift and he salvaged as much as he could, making it look less unruly and more appropriately tousled. He widened his eyes, gazing at how bloodshot they were, tongue sticking out to check color just out of sheer habit. His face was flushed and TJ passed him one of the water bottles sitting in a welcome basket he clearly missed, taking a healthy swig before fixing the way the neck of his white v-neck was pulled in a lopsided manner.

“Do I look presentable?”

TJ grinned, standing next to him to stare at his reflection. “Yes, you look very nice.”

From the hallway, he could hear the distant sound of Steve’s laughter and he went towards it, TJ following alongside with him while his nose was stuck in his factbook once again. There was a sensation of more people in the same area as he got closer; absent noises around the room got louder, as did the movement and a murmur of low voices carrying through. A television was on, droning on in the background and he knew if people weren’t napping in rooms like him, they were all probably collected out there.

The dining table was over there too from what he remembered and assumed everyone was getting ready to eat, finally seeing the cartoons on the screen as TJ moved past him to drop back on the couch. Natasha popped into his field of vision, disappearing around the corner and missing him coming in, her back to him as she went into the kitchen. Brock took another swig from his water bottle as his feet padded along the cool floor, curious to see all who were here now.

“Maybe snorkeling or how about horseback riding then? I’m not sure about Buck but TJ loves horses, they said they have one that’s pretty relaxed for kids that he’d be suitable to ride on if he wants to.” Steve said as Brock rounded the wall and stepped into the dining room, his back pressing casually against the wall.

“If I get a vote in this, I’d rather be in the water than risking my ass gettin’ bucked off a damn horse.” Brock piped in, taking another drink of water and immediately picking up on the abrupt stop of conversation, all immediate eyes on him.  


Pausing in confusion, Brock first stared at Steve’s panic-stricken face before switching to Sam who sat there too, looking equally worried with a cracker freezing halfway towards his mouth.  


It was all too clear when he noticed the figure at the end of the table farthest away from him, face partially hidden away by the island guide that always sat at the coffee table. Jack had arrived.

He was dressed in a soft blue shirt with the top two buttons undone and sunglasses hanging off the third. His hair was a little longer, curling a bit inward and despite pushing it all back he didn’t slick it up like he did before; now it was left alone with the weather fluffing it up a little and a stray beam of sunlight against it picked up the tint of natural red that he had. It managed to make him look a little bit softer, even with the thin beard around his sharp features.

It was like seeing a ghost. Brock wasn’t ready for it, even if he knew there wouldn’t have been any way to prepare for it, to tell himself those feelings he had before were gone and never coming back. He didn’t know how he’d feel, didn’t know how he’d react but _this_ wasn’t it. He wasn’t ready for the sudden punch to the gut, the lack of air filling his lungs. He had so much time to recover and yet, here in the now, Jack still managed to take his breath away.

The silence was tense for everyone in that space, awkward even, and Brock waited for Jack to just look up at him from the guide, to see that he picked himself up and maybe be hit with the same reaction he was having.  


He didn’t though. Jack’s eyes stayed set on the pages before him, there had been a small notepad where some notes had already been scribbled down for what he assumed was a day trip Steve was planning out, pencil softly tapping against paper. Brock didn’t exactly know for sure what the conversation was about before he had arrived and he didn’t care, all that mattered was that Jack was in the same room and there was no way he could take his eyes away from him.

“Not fair.” Natasha protested, her voice starting everyone up again and tearing Brock away from his fixation. “I was hoping I’d get to wake you up if TJ didn’t manage.”

Brock’s eyes flit towards the bar set up at the back corner of the room, rows of hard liquor waiting to be opened and he was tempted to grab something off one of the shelves and crawl back into bed. He knew it was what everyone was bracing for, that he’d fall apart like he did when they broke up, expect him to crack because that’s what they knew and he was still disappointed in himself for reacting the way he did.

He forcibly pushed it all aside, glancing over to Natasha with a smirk as he dropped down to sit (ignoring that it was one of two seats closest to Jack) and she kept subtly staring like she was trying to assess his frame of mind. He shrugged slightly to let her know in his own little way he was fine and looked up when one of the extra assistants tied to the beach house came in with the first platter of food.  


Attention was quickly divided up between the need to eat and planning for a day out, TJ bounding over at the first call of him from Bucky. Of course Jack raised his head when he was near, Brock catching a smile shared between them from the corner of his eye as TJ ran his hand across Jack’s shoulders in the tactile way he was while passing around him.

Brock felt a little annoyed even if he had no reason to about TJ’s attachment to Jack. He was one of the first people that had showed TJ being different wasn’t a bad thing, especially when most of TJ’s life consisted of being sheltered from most things and mainly only had his family to teach him about what he knew. Now things were different, but Brock and Jack were one of the few people trusted to meet TJ at a young age because Bucky believed anyone that was friends with him should also be okay to be friends with his twin. No exceptions were tolerated and it wasn’t like either of them hated it.

Brock also knew TJ did the same for Jack. He was there when they met, Jack a beanpole back then but he had an intimidating scowl across his face, it wasn’t exactly welcoming to others but he softened up for TJ because of his learning disability and showing him nothing but kindness. It took a little bit for TJ to really understand why Jack purposefully looked unapproachable to everyone else, wanted people to think he was difficult to deal with and was better to avoid. It wasn’t until Jack’s ma got sick and was sent to the hospital that his stuttering was prominent, usually only occurring when he was under great strain. He couldn’t control it and it carried on so badly the longer she was there that he suddenly refused to speak until she was released again.

He had spent more time with TJ then and they seemed to have something that clicked where they could play without Jack needing to communicate verbally. TJ knew how to care for Jack and Jack let him, nowadays..he doesn’t know how much they saw of each other but TJ mentioned that he called often; and at least there was that. Whatever worked to keep TJ’s world right side up was the right thing, even if it was while he and Jack drifted further apart.

Brock shook his thoughts away, turning back to Natasha who never stopped watching him. “So if he hadn’t gotten me awake, what were you plannin’?”

“Probably some ice water funneled through a hose and tucked into your pants or something fun like that.” She quipped with a playful wink. “Make sure you were _really_ set to get out of that bed.”

“Then m’grateful I woke up. Maybe sometime this week I won’t be so lucky.” He offered and grabbed for some more water, desperately wishing it was a beer.

More dishes came out, mostly of catch of the day themed bites; lobster salad, an enormous array of vibrant fruit and of course a large plate of chicken nuggets and crinkle cut fries that TJ was already helping himself to while one of the serving staff poured him out a glass of chocolate milk.  


Brock didn’t miss the way Steve and Bucky watched him with wary concern through all the excitement of how delicious everything looked, Steve occasionally glancing at Jack too as if he was waiting any time now for a huge blow up to happen. Brock hoped with all his might that it would never come to pass, not here anyway.

“Natasha said she would give me five whole dollars if I didn’t wake you up, Brock!” TJ admitted and the group broke out in laughter, even Jack smiled, his eyes averted to the notepad and putting a few other bullet points in.

Natasha reached across the table, throwing a small bit of fry at TJ for ratting her out and he ducked away from it, giggling helplessly. Lucky, Clint’s dog, had made the trip too, bounding inside through one of the many sliding doors integrated into the glass walls, rounding the table in greeting to everyone before parking himself down beside TJ in obvious hope for some scraps.

Shaking her head at TJ before spooning out some fruit salad, Brock stared at Natasha fondly. He hadn’t seen much of her for the past year but she seemed happier and more lively now that she was done playing games and her and Clint were officially _a thing_ instead of just some secret she felt like she had to hide to avoid questions while he, on the other hand, was a bumbling mess of not being sure if they were serious or not. Brock was happy for them, finally moving in together out in Bed-stuy almost a year ago and shifting their life around to accommodate each other. Despite usually having trouble getting together from time to time she was always make sure he was okay and he was always there to lend an ear if she felt like venting over grievances like when Clint decided walking around the apartment naked with the neighbors getting an eyeful was absolutely a normal thing a person should do.

Sam’s laugh pulled Brock his way and it was good to see him too, reaching around Natasha’s chair to give him a playful prod and he turned his head to smile, eyes brightening as he reached out to drape his arm against his.  


“How’s life, Brock?”

“Pretty great, Wilson. How’s life bein’ a hero?”

Scoffing at the comment, Sam ducked his head away and his face colored a little. “Now don’t you start that again! I’m just a simple man helping out folks who need guidance, that’s all.”

Brock let it go but he rolled his eyes, accepting Natasha’s pass over of some kind of fried rice and reminding him that despite being on vacation, he still had to keep an eye on his carb intake. He automatically turned to offer the dish to the person beside him, Jack aware enough to accept it and send it to TJ without a word or even any sort of eye contact. Brock supposed it was going to be this way if they didn’t want to butt heads while at the same time trying to be mutually happy for their friends.

In turn, Brock tried his best to ignore Jack the rest of the meal, not that the man was bringing much attention to himself. He was either on his phone or making quick notes; it was what Jack did. He organized and made things work, he wasn’t surprised Steve had asked him to help put something together over anyone else, a little bit of food on Jack’s plate but not really interested in eating.  


“What about you, Jack?” Sam asked politely, always pulling everyone in to feel comfortable. “Haven’t seen you in almost a year, what have you been up to?”

Conversation paused almost unanimously and Jack picked up on it quickly, resting his phone down on top of the paper with a thin smile as he sat up straighter than he already was. Brock bumped his leg against Natasha’s, her left hand under the table and lightly patting his leg comfortingly. She’d always been like a sister to him and he was grateful she was there to back him up if he needed an escape plan.

“M-me?” Jack stumbled, pausing before taking a breath and Brock immediately felt a pang of sympathy despite all that they went through that one fateful night. He collected himself, absently adding more of whatever was closest to him which turned out to be chicken nuggets. “It’s good. The bakery’s picking up so that’s kind of a relief.”

“The first year is always the toughest.” Bucky offered, giving him a smile. “I’m happy you finally got there.”

Jack’s shoulders relaxed, a quick glance was all he got before Jack was looking down at his food again. “Thank you.”

Brock kept focusing on eating, the sound of Jack’s voice taking him away to better times. He was trying to ignore the way his heart beat faster because of it, his brain digging up all the soft tones he used before and the way Brock used to always melt over it.  


He ate another piece of seared tuna trying to appreciate that instead of his thoughts on the past. He told himself it would get easier soon, he had to. Time passed, things changed. Brock got some of his shit together and from what Jack had just said, he finally was able to run his own business like he’d always dreamed about doing. They weren’t living out of each others pockets anymore and pretending to be in love with one another.  


It took a while for Brock to realize they were better apart than together and it was just how life went sometimes.

With that line of thought, Brock was going to act like a civil adult for the next five days and keep his interactions with Jack to a bare minimum. Even though he had his name in lights these days and was the kind of fighter that brought people in, that he managed to make a name for himself no matter how new he was to the circuit and how he should rub that in Jack’s face since he still remembered his words plain as day, he wouldn’t. For the sake of Steve and especially for Bucky, he wasn’t going to start anything because they were the bigger picture in all this.  


He just had to keep his head up and be the best man Bucky wanted him to be.

Lunch began to wind down and conversation shifted to exactly what arrangements Turtle Island’s hosts were offering for the wedding, Steve retrieving a booklet for just the subject as he beamed and Bucky comfortingly placed a hand on his fiance’s shoulder, resting his chin on the spot after so he could read along.

“They do everything, that’s the best part. We just have to show up!” He proceeded to lay out the details while the table began to clear and TJ suddenly looked uninterested, Brock meeting eyes with him and tilting his head to gesture for him to come to his side of the table.

“What’s wrong Kiddo?”

TJ slumped against his arm. “Wedding stuff is boring.”

Brock barked out a laugh and conversation paused, everyone looking his way and Brock shrugged in amusement as Bucky rolled his eyes, gesturing outside. “You don’t have to suffer with us, feel free to make yourselves at home despite having wedding roles you’re both supposed to fulfill.”  


“Can I go swimming, Bucky?” TJ suddenly lit up, grasped hands pressed to his chest to beg. “Please, please?”

“You just ate, TJ.” Steve cut in, giving him a kind smile. “Wait for thirty minutes and then you can go, yeah Buck?”

Bucky turned to Steve, smiling towards him with a nod before pressing a kiss to his cheek and Brock couldn’t help feeling warm and happy for how well all three of them worked together, already a close family. Bucky paused as his twin jumped about excitedly once given permission, Lucky standing beside him and wagging his tail. “TJ, don’t forget. You need to be with someone.”

TJ froze, a distraught expression crossed his face until he turned and Brock already knew he was screwed, grey blue eyes pleading with every urgent bone in his body. “Brock please, will you take me swimming? Please?”  


He helplessly threw his hands up and shrugged. “Sure Kiddo, I ain’t got nothin’ better to do right now but work off this lunch, so why not?”

“Yay!” TJ clapped, forcibly pulling him out of his chair. “I’m going to change, and you need to change too! It’s too hot for those pants, c’mon Brock!”

Brock couldn’t help but start laughing again, his lack of rest getting to him apparently and he allowed himself to be hauled off with an eager tug of his arm. “I guess I’ll be seein’ y’all later, we’ll be by the pool if anyone feels like joinin’ us.”

Clint raised his hand with a grin. “Count me in, let me just digest a little. Nat?”

Natasha pretended to think about it before she nodded, turning to look up at Brock and holding on to Sam’s forearm. “Don’t forget we all have some things to plan.”

“What things?” Bucky asked, curious. “What are you two up to?”

“Best man things, kinda. I think, I ain’t too sure what’s goin’ on lately.” Brock let out honestly.

“I heard about strippers, that’s the last thing.” Sam piped in. “Oh! And the beer pong.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look towards them, expression seconds from going offended. “_Really_?”

Sam seemed pleased with himself that he triggered Steve’s ire in less than two seconds and Brock started to laugh, stooping down a little. TJ immediately knew what that was for and he let out an excited squeal, climbing onto his back and hooking his legs around his waist.  


Waving at the pair of them when TJ did, Jack finally lifted his head up and looked at Brock. It was the briefest of glances like when they were passing food but it also felt brand new, both looking away almost immediately, but Brock still had that much too familiar clench of his heart and a quiet hitch in his breath.

He had to get away from there and escaped with TJ as quickly as possible towards the bedrooms. There was a large kids room at one corner that was still kept up like when they were young; two bunk beds with built in bookshelves were filled with various children’s books that allowed TJ to choose where he wanted to sleep and what he wanted to read on different nights. Toys and crayons sat on open coloring books laid out on an activity table. There was an electronic keyboard against one of the glass walls positioned to look out towards the water and a beanbag chair beside it that sat TJ’s beloved stuffed wolf.  


He dropped him off against the nearest bed and sat down beside him trying to calm himself down over the Jack situation. TJ scrambled away to get his favorite toy and decided since he had time to kill, he’d show Brock all the coloring he’d done today and retell him every fact about Fiji that he had learned about so far.  


Brock let him do as he pleased, pretending he was completely focused on him and smiling along with his nods when he was prompted to respond, throwing in a few points of his fingers at a few of the colored pictures and complimenting him about how great they looked.  


It wasn’t that he was actually lying about it, he was just mostly distracted by the way Jack’s eyes were a perfect shade of viridian that he’d always loved staring at especially when they laid in bed doing nothing and all Jack would do is watch him with the corner of his mouth quirked up.  


It was just as distracting as the way his hair seemed like it would be soft to the touch still, and how Brock knew it tended to slightly curl just a little against his fingers; how his thin beard would scratch against his skin and Jack would always kiss the splotches of red he’d leave behind in apology, it’d be the thing that made Brock always forgive him.

TJ jostled him out of his head when he hopped away to find something else to look at and Brock came to the unfortunate realization that maybe, just maybe, these five days weren’t going to be a simple walk in the park.


	3. Waffle Mornings

Once he’d returned from the beach with TJ and taken a much needed break from Jack being in the house, there were new arrivals from the wedding party setting up shop around the place.

Scott had shown up, all bubbly and excited as ever over Steve and Bucky finally making it official. When he was all settled in, him, Clint and Lucky reconnected over a game of fetch in the infinity pool.

Also arriving was Thor, big smiles and massive everything else. He appeared out from the basement level of the house where he’d announced his bags were put away and then threw his arms around the happy couple wishing them many long and wonderful years together. Loki followed after him with that permanent annoyed look across his face but he was happy all the same for the two of them, gathering whoever was around to toast to them. Brock always did like the both of them, though sometimes it was like oil and water interacting. Mostly they balanced each other out and were good company for whatever mood he was in.

By the front door, he counted more shoes than people and knew he may have been missing out on meeting a couple others, though Brock was pretty sure he’d run into them sooner or later. It was always better to catch up when it wasn’t a crowd all at once anyway and he was grateful.

Steve had mentioned in passing that no one else was expected to arrive after today and that the rest of the wedding guests were staying out in Nadi or in adjoining resort hotels before the big day. The bedrooms here were all full up in the house and at least there was no drama about the arrangements.

By nightfall, everyone had gathered together for a sumptuous first evening dinner filled with excited conversation of fond stories and catching up. It was loud and sometimes managed to borderline on raucous when the air was filled with laughter, and Brock knew once the table was cleared out everyone was going to shift towards the sitting room. When it did, he knew that he was going to need hang back a bit and just blend into the background.

From his stationed spot against the far wall, he listened to Pepper talk. Bucky and Thor flanked themselves at either side of her, eagerly listening to every detail as she was explaining to the room about what Stark Industries had in store next and the innovations they were looking to work on. She tried to keep herself composed, one leg crossed over the other, an occasional gestured sweep of her hand, but her face was lit up; excited and pleased to be able to spread the news to everyone.  


Brock couldn’t help but smile to himself, Pepper had always been one of those people that always supported him, no matter how bad things got and he’d always quietly wished her all the best in her endeavors and was proud of the accomplishments she made.

Bucky and Thor hung off her every word, asking about this or that in further detail. They were so fascinated, pitching their own ideas and opinions to see what she thought. When there was a lull though, he could see the way her eyes glanced towards the door on occasion like she hoped there would be a surprise arrival of one certain person.

Tony hadn’t flown in with her, the two of them usually arm in arm, and the last Brock had heard, things were great. He just knew from experience how hard it was when someone you care for, well for him _cared_, wasn’t able to be around you constantly.  


He thought about parking his butt down on the glass coffee table in front of Pep and distracting her with stories about his career and the crazy time to time demands some of the promoters had for him. She always asked him for what was new with him and he was sure it helped her momentarily forget how much of a busy woman she was and let her have something normal to think about for once. Brock always obliged and loved to make her smile even if he’d never really admit to it.  


He shifted his weight and was about to take a step towards the trio when someone moved to lean against the same wall on the opposite end of it, only a handful of feet away.

Brock expected it to be TJ, he and Clint slipping out after eating to take Lucky on a walk, but when he turned his head that way to ask how he was doing the last person he expected to see instead was Jack. He held his own beer in hand and was taking a sip, Brock’s eyes trailing over to the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly and turned back towards the crowd.  


Immediately his palms began to feel sweaty and he quietly swore to himself under his breath. There was music playing in the background and soon suddenly Bucky was on his feet with a microphone, testing out how loud it was while Steve came in from the side and draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Already bustin’ out the damn karaoke.” Brock muttered because _of course_. It was always something they all fell back on when they did have time to get together, and it was especially sappy and gross when Bucky and Steve were involved, usually belting out popular love songs to each other while everyone else suffered or cheered, whichever one worked better for the crowd at the time. Part of him believed they also did it to troll their friends because they were those kind of assholes but mostly because they were way too sappy to pass it up.

He startled to the sound of a slight chuckle near him and it stopped short, like it just happened and then caught itself. Brock ignored the urge to cross his arms over his chest, his hand tightening around the neck of his beer bottle as he struggled with all his might not to look over.

It took a few seconds to realize Jack was _much closer_, still an arms length away but noticeably different from where he’d started. The ongoing beat of a cymbal started up and he quickly recognized _In Your Eyes_, a song Brock heard a thousand times and before today. He used to not mind hearing it whenever it showed up on the radio or someone chose it to sing along to. Right then though, it made things more difficult not to look Jack’s way.

He still remembered as if it was just yesterday the way Jack had sung it to him that one night.  


Brock never told anyone about it, that they were talking about 80’s music one evening while hidden under the bed covers in the privacy of their old apartment like two silly teenagers and Jack’s fondness for the era. Somewhere in there they had been talking about artists and Peter Gabriel came up and Jack gazed at him while Brock almost lost track of what he wanted to say.  


He managed to keep talking until Jack started to sing, fumbling over the words a little and laughing in that depreciating way he did at times when his stuttering got the better of him. Brock though, he was so gone for the small gesture. Jack barely got through the first two verses before he stumbled again and his head dropped forward to hide his embarrassment. Brock knew he loved him prior to that but it only cemented his feelings, pulling Jack in for a kiss before he could continue on and there wasn’t much singing or even talking that night afterwards.

That familiar ache in his chest returned over the thought of never hearing Jack sing it to him again, or any other song for that matter. He even missed the times Jack would hum to himself when in an exceptionally good mood and assumed Brock was still asleep. It was hard to realize all over again those things he’d never have anymore that he thought were long forgotten.

Before Bucky and Steve got too starry eyed, Brock cleared his throat loudly and caught Bucky’s attention flashing him a grin. “Enough of that romantic shit, Barnes! I thought ya mentioned how much ya felt like singin’ that Wham! song ya like so much, well? Now’s yer chance!”

Bucky lit up, and TJ was slipping off his shoes with Clint, catching the tail end of the conversation. He rounded out from the front entrance and grinned wildly, waving his arms towards his brother.

“Buck! Is it time for everyone to sing? Can me and you sing something?!” He bounced on his heels excitedly at the clear sign there was going to be karaoke going on. “Oh! We can sing that Wake me up before you go go song together with the snapping fingers! Please please!”

Sam raised his beer in the air with a laugh. “Get on with it, Buck! You can’t deny your own brother!”

Pointing appreciatively at Brock for the reminder, Bucky turned to TJ and nodded, watching him clap happily. He pulled his twin so they were hip to hip and pointed out the projector screen for TJ to follow the words on as Natasha searched for the music.  


The mood changed almost immediately, energetic cheers filling the room as soon as the song started and a chorus of snapping fingers followed the tune; most of their wedding party huddled together in one room singing along with Bucky and TJ sharing the microphone and snapping their fingers to the beat, hips swaying along with the music and the two of them having the time of their lives.  


Brock relaxed against the wall again, crisis and depression averted for now.

“Nice one.” Jack murmured, he was much closer than an arm’s length away now but he was still offering a respectable amount of personal space despite the way Brock’s heart dropped just because he was actually being acknowledged.

Internally, he ran through every possible thing that he could say and how he should say it. He’d been thinking about this interaction for the past two years, trying to decide on the perfect way to talk to Jack. It had to sound like communicating with him wasn’t a big deal, that it didn’t matter one way or another, like Jack was just another person in the room.

“Yeah.” Brock said with a brusque nod and a shrug.  


So much for casual.

When there was nothing else said, he risked a glance Jack’s way, hoping to catch him looking his way stupidly or at least make him feel odd for standing so close. Instead, Jack had reverted his attention to the gathering where Thor and Pepper were dancing along to the off-key laughter and singing together into the microphone as Clint waited in the wings for the song to wrap up, clearly ready to do something next.  


Brock hoped at least that his tone was sharp and confident, that nothing in his voice gave away the small bundle of unhappiness he was harboring.

Minutes passed and Brock wondered if Jack would say anything else to him. He had hope dancing along the edges of every emotional wall he put up for himself against his ex and this time if he did feel like trading a few barbs, he’d be much more prepared to answer. Brock could do casual conversation like a grown adult for his best friend’s wedding and also prove that putting him and Jack in the same room wasn’t going to trigger some kind of world war.

“Okay okay!” Bucky said, throwing his hands up to stop the music. “I just wanted to say before Clint steps up, this from Steve as well as myself, we’re both so happy you all could make it. I know it’s not exactly perfect how we planned all this but, thank you. It means a lot to have you guys _and gals_ take the time and celebrate this special time with us.”

A chorus of aww’s ran through the group and Bucky rolled his eyes, giving TJ a hug when his sibling threw his arms out for one, tugging Steve in.  


Clint grabbed for the microphone and swooped out towards the projection screen, pointing to Pepper in a signal they already had set up before he waved Scott over. Placing his beer down, Scott dusted bits of chips off his thighs before joining the front eagerly, getting ready to sing alongside.

As soon as the music began, the pair both broke out in their rendition of Salt-N-Pepa’s _Push It_, complete with all the moves in their music video, and Brock tried his best not to facepalm. Leave it to those two to make hip gyrating look like it was going out of style, especially when Thor decided to join in. Somehow between his duet with Pepper and sitting down, he somehow had lost his shirt and the beach house was one level from turning into a strip joint.

“It’s always Scott and Clint responsible for making the volume of a party go up a notch.” Jack said under his breath, more to himself than to Brock.

“At least we’re on an island, no cops to bust in on us.” Brock provided, evoking a small smile from his ex.

“I’m still expecting cops.” Jack retorted, his tone only mildly teasing as he continued watching Thor sandwich himself between Clint and Scott in some synchronized _dancing_ that had Pepper and Natasha slipping some bills into the waistband of Thor’s dangerously low trousers, Steve laughing and trying his best to cover TJ’s eyes.

Brock was now too distracted, he wondered if Jack had looked at him more than once since he first arrived. Despite the minor conversation happening between them right now, it seemed like he had been going out of his way to avoid things, like looking in his direction was the last thing he wanted. It was tough because for Brock, he just couldn’t keep his eyes away.

No matter what he did, or what he told himself, he found his gaze always going Jack’s way. There was no fail to it and he even caught himself staring when he never really meant to. Jack was just like that for him, a magnetic presence that commanded the room and he always saw him like that. Brock really hated it.

“Do they even got cops around ‘ere?” Brock wondered out loud.

Jack shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe they recruited some undercover guys to wander around once they found out who was all here. You never know.”

“I suppose. That brain of yers always got other ideas.” Brock paused a moment. “Alternative things you can bring up fer reasonin’.”

Jack chuckled, shaking his head while he dropped it back against the wall. Brock’s tone had been neutral but he wondered if maybe Jack would take it as something bitter. It was too difficult to tell with him, he had a habit of masking his feelings around people in general. He only really let loose when he felt comfortable, safe and when he trusted every person around him but even then, sometimes it was still hard to get some kind of open expression out of him.

Brock felt bothered by that. There was a time Brock was the only person he could trust and he never shied away from telling him that; opened up to him in every way possible and never held back. Now they were standing almost side by side against a wall at a small party neither were really partaking in and pretending everything was fine and dandy.

Considering everything, it was okay, Brock thought. It was _fine_. He forced himself to be okay with it for a long time and he wasn’t going to let a get together like this destroy every defensive wall he built because of how it ended and how many days and nights he spent mourning everything they had that was completely gone.

“Finally managed to get yer dream off the ground, huh? Owner of a bakery now.” Brock’s eyes shifted around before turning to look Jack’s way. “How’s that been?”

Jack didn’t answer him at first. He was still watching everyone pensively, empty beer bottle in hand and his fingers gently scratched at the label. Brock wondered if he was prying with his line of questioning, wondered if he assumed something that he shouldn’t have, if Jack really wasn’t prepared to talk to him like they were okay to speak to each other on a regular basis. It was hard to figure out when Jack barely wore his emotions on his sleeve.

“D-does it really matter?” Jack answered, his frown immediate when his stutter decided to make an appearance, a small trace of defensiveness laced in his response. “I thought if things weren’t directly about you, it wasn’t interesting.”

_It does when it’s about you_, Brock thought to himself, something within him urging him to say it. He tried to hide any reaction to the impediment, hoping to look like he didn’t notice. One thing Jack could never hide was his stress levels if he spoke and Brock wondered what it meant if he was anxious around him. He turned his head towards his own beer, staring at the label like he was reading it before drinking the last of what was left. 

“Guess I’m still learnin’ how to do small talk.” Brock shot back. “You’d be surprised what a couple years can do fer a guy, change his outlook, shit like that.”

He forced himself not to look in Jack’s direction but saw from the corner of his eye the quick way the man turned his head and stare in his direction. He wanted so badly to lock eyes with him, mirror the stoic expression that he was probably trying to throw at him. Instead, he focused on his friends all laughing and having a good time together.  


“Clearly.” Jack said. “Not sure if he’s interested in the small talk though, or just trying to get to know me like in the past.”

Brock rolled his eyes with a snort, aborting a move to finish off his beer and wishing he didn’t already so he could. He felt his face flush and his muscles tense, hating that it barely took a few lines for Jack to still get under his skin, to affect him in a way no one else had enough power to.  


“Believe me, that’s the last thing I’d ever want happenin’.” Brock bit out.

“I don’t know,” Jack threw back. “You’re the one that’s good at lying to yourself.”

“I was jus tryin’ to be congenial.” Brock ground out and fighting not to grit his teeth. “Can’t imagine anyone wantin’ to chat ya up with yer piss poor attitude in the way.”

“Close but not quite.” Jack mused, confidence of an upper hand coming in. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

Brock huffed, doing his best not to explode, especially when it looked like Jack clearly didn’t seem to care, that he looked almost _bored_ over their conversation. It was more frustrating that his stutter seemed to disappear again if that gave any indication of how much Jack really didn’t seem to be bothered and it pushed Brock further.

He wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off Jack’s lips, watching as he looked down at his empty bottle and then turning to glance in between them to his own empty bottle.

“Refill?” Jack asked easily enough, pretentious and arrogant. It was absolutely on purpose and the fact that he chose to be that way dug deep into Brock, like Jack won their first battle after so long, chalk one for Rollins and Brock was _seething_. “You look like you could use a new one.”

“Sounds about right.” Brock said with a forced smile. “Definitely need to drink some more if I haveta be in yer company fer the night.”

Jack sneered contemptuously, reaching for the bottle and their hands brushed. It was only for barely a second, just something minor but it still flooded Brock with memories of Jack and him together, the touch of his fingers on his skin and his lips on his own. It startled Brock momentarily and his eyes diverted away from Jack, slouching back against the wall and shoving his hands into the shorts he had on.

“There’s others you could spend time around.” Jack taunted. “I’m not the only person that exists in the world.”

Brock scoffed, holding himself together as best as he possibly could. “Yeah, because that was my plan all along. To waste my precious time hopin’ I was holdin’ yer attention.”

Jack shook his head and walked away, both beer bottles in hand and giving Sam a nod as they passed by each other going in opposite directions. It never reached his eyes like Brock knew it could, when it did he would get these eye crinkles and his nose slightly scrunched along with it. It was always one of his favorite things about Jack, that he could look so soft and docile when they were having their moments together and also be one of the most intimidating looking fuckers he’d ever met.

Brock hated that despite Jack walking out of his life and giving him no choice on the matter two years ago, and that he could have easily avoided him through the whole wedding event and not say one word, they had ended up talking and immediately clashing. He should’ve only felt bitterness, resented him for how he was treated and yet he couldn’t help but watch after him until he was out of sight, let his gaze linger as he lost himself in thought before finally turning back to the crowd and watching Steve singing something he couldn’t be bothered to recognize.

When Jack finally returned, Brock was handed a beer that clearly wasn’t what he had before, and he stared down at the brown bottle in disgust. He turned to Jack and noticed the expression he was holding, like he was waiting for Brock to explode in a ball of anger. It reminded him of when he would do stupid shit to get Jack to notice him when they’d have a disagreement and he’d shut down, burying himself in a book. Brock hated feeling neglected, pent up energy thrumming through him after a fight they’d either stubbornly keep going at each other in or the alternative where Jack gave in because he didn’t want to continue.  


Those times were down to a science, where Brock would press at his buttons, bug and nag, get a little physical with him and eventually Jack would take the bait and they’d fight a little; barely anything to even call it a fight and in the end it really was just foreplay for them. They’d end up fucking wherever they were in the apartment and that was that. Morning would come and life restarted all over again.

“Thanks.” Brock mumbled as he dropped his eyes away, raising the bottle to his lips to take a healthy swig.

As he already knew, it tasted God awful, but he wasn’t going to give Jack the satisfaction of another round. Not tonight at least. There were better things to put his energy into and he’d already been baited enough.

He wasn’t in the mood to figure out what Jack was up to, the one who spoke first and Brock wondered if it was just to see if he could goad him and start trouble. Was that his plan all along for this whole trip? To see his friends get hitched, catch up on how every else was going, enjoy the scenery and oh yeah, piss Brock off as much as he could before he was gone once again?  


Brock was beginning to wonder if maybe he was hallucinating half the “good” memories he had of his ex.

He frowned, taking another spiteful sip of beer. Maybe before he left Fiji, he’d be able to catch Jack unguarded and lay it all out, tell him how he really felt and where he could shove it. Burn the bridge he’d been so deathly afraid of approaching and just get it over and done with. Rid him from his life for good.

“Brock.” Jack murmured low, close again and his voice was oddly gentle; Brock felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest at that voice whispering his name. “I was just being a dick.”

Brock turned his head and Jack was holding out his actual beer almost apologetically, a shy smile across his face like he was a kid again, boyish and sweet like Brock had always seen him. It was a fleeting moment though, the neutral expression slipping back across his face again, Brock carefully accepted the bottle from him as Jack took back the wrong beer and set it against the side table where a few empties were already sitting.

“I’ll dump it down the sink later.” Jack assured with a wave of his hand. “Who knows, maybe Thor’ll end up finding it and drinking it down in one go.”

Brock stared as Jack let out an awkward laugh and cut himself off shortly after, gripping the neck of his own bottle a little tighter and for the first time since he laid eyes on Jack today, Brock realized maybe it wasn’t just him on the edge about their reunion. It didn’t exactly help him any but it did cause him to feel a sudden pang of sympathy deep within.

“Yeah, maybe.” Brock said, lifting the new beer in appreciation. “Thanks again.”

  


They didn’t speak to each other again, only sticking against the wall close like before Jack had gone to the kitchen, enough that there was some sort of amiable company between them but also still offering the personal space for them to be apart.

Somewhere in between A-ha and Madonna, Whitney Houston was singing about wanting a special person in her life and Brock was yanked into the circle of friends dancing in the middle of the living room. The coffee table had been moved away and Natasha managed to find a scrunchie somewhere to tie her hair into a side ponytail; it was atrocious but it was Natasha, she somehow pulled it off. She was also wonderfully drunk, Brock holding her arm over their heads to let her twirl before he caught her with a laugh.  


Besides Bucky who seemed to be laughing so hard he was in a fit of hysterics and of course Jack, everyone else was on their feet and it felt like they were back in school again and pulling out one of their weekend parties filled with underage drinking, too much sugar and a shitton of pizza.  


“Natty, I ain’t drunk enough to make an ass outta m’self yet!” He laughed, giving her another twirl before she collapsed against his chest, ignoring his protest.

He couldn’t help the bubbling laughter pour out of him, an odd relief to finally be able to release some pent up feelings and convert them into a feel good sensation he’d been aching for. He turned to follow Natasha’s movements, her hand tangled tight with his but only found himself getting lost in Jack’s eyes. He was still pressed back against the wall and Thor had found him, leaning against one shoulder and talking to him about something.

Neither he nor Jack could look away for a few seconds, bodies flailing and dancing around Brock, Thor went on with bold gestures of his hands around Jack, everything seemingly blurred away and Brock couldn’t figure out if Jack was feeling the same sensation. It was a tunnel vision kind of moment until TJ rushed towards him, arms thrown around his neck and Natasha had left him, his arm coming around to brace him.  


“TJ, you drunk?”

Receiving giggles for his concern, TJ gave him a squeeze and cuddled in closer as he continually danced to the music. “No! Cross my heart! I’m just happy and everyone else is happy!”  


Brock was relieved, he knew better but with all the free flowing booze available he sometimes wondered; of course being Bucky’s twin, he was of legal age to drink but with how his thought process went, it was better if he didn’t.  


Fortunately TJ picked up on energy and when there was a party he was always punch-drunk without needing to have something. It also helped that he had snuck himself some booze once before and ended up getting sick all over himself, crying fearfully under the assumption he was going to die. Thankfully he wasn’t poisoned when they rushed him to the hospital and since then he’d never gone anywhere near alcohol ever again.

When TJ turned around to see Pepper behind him, he raised his hands up excitedly and she let him gather her up while Brock exchanged a smile with her, the pair breaking out in a dance together while Brock was left without a partner.  


He peeked back towards where Jack had been standing only to find him not there anymore. Instead he was closer towards the path of the kitchen, an apparent new beer in hand and finally engaged in conversation with Thor. They both looked intimidating face to face in their own ways with their similar heights despite Jack being lankier as opposed to muscular, though Brock knew he was just as solid as any other guy in the room.

Thor reached out in what seemed like a comfortable hand to Jack’s shoulder while nodding in agreement to something and a pang of jealousy abruptly hit Brock so out of the blue he had to move away from the crowd and drop himself down on the couch.

They didn’t really catch each other for the rest of the evening and it made Brock wonder if maybe that moment with the group was just another thing his mind convinced him was something that was really nothing at all.

*****

Brock barely managed to get a quick glimpse at the radio alarm on his bedside table reading six in the morning when TJ had tackled him with so much energy that he almost flew off the bed. Brock’s quick reflexes held onto him before instincts to throw off his attacker was engaged, glad for it. It would have been all he needed, TJ crying because he got hurt and waking up the whole house because Brock thought he was some random burglar and everyone becoming upset. Or if he didn’t hold on and TJ went flying off into one of the walls.

He was met with an excited fit of giggles as Brock rolled himself onto his side, latched firmly onto TJ in case he decided to jump on the bed and take flight again. He loved him, he really did, but mornings where he was abruptly woken up were a pain in his ass.

“TJ.” He muttered into the bed sheets. A finger poked against the side of his nostril in response. “How many times has Buck told ya you need to knock before you come into someone’s room, especially in the mornin’?”

“Um, a lot but Brock you said to come visit you anytime! You did say it, I remember.”

Brock had to smile, because he did and he was the one that made the mistake of talking to him with the concept TJ knew the difference between anytime and _anytime_. “Yeah, I did. M’sorry. But I was havin’ a nice dream, I forget how you like wakin’ me up.”

He left out that he missed how it was like before, when TJ was doing the waking up to Jack instead. Those days were full of mornings where the three of them would have weekend sleepovers at the Brock and Jack’s apartment and wake them up early. Jack would be bodily attacked and Brock would only get the facial pokes; together they’d both manage to tackle TJ between them and tickle him mercilessly until he cried uncle and promised never to surprise them again, even if it was always going to repeat itself.  


They were good memories that seemed just like yesterday, ones Brock wished didn’t feel so fresh in his mind especially when Jack was under the same roof as him for the time being.

“Brock?”

“Hm?” He mumbled, snuggling under the covers and hoping he’d get to have a few more minutes.  


The party didn’t really wind down until after one, TJ and Pepper departing earlier and hiding away in the kids room together to read stories. It was the farthest away from all the noise and he suspected Pepper was more than happy to get away when she could. Brock didn’t get that luck, Jack had disappeared at some point after that time, and when he was finally in his own room, his mind continued to race and assess every interaction with his ex. It was two in the morning when he eventually began to wind down and feel his eyes get heavy.

“Can we have waffles?” TJ asked in the softest voice he could muster.

Brock tried not to smile, it would have encouraged TJ too much. “When?”

“Right now?” He asked innocently and Brock sighed internally.

“And where’s Mama Frances? Doesn’t she make you anything you like whenever you like while you’re on vacation?”

TJ traced Brock’s features with his finger, it felt nice, comforting. “Today Mama Frances doesn’t have to come over until the clock has a small hand on the eight and a big hand on the twelve because Bucky told her about the party and he said everyone would be resting until then. But my tummy is growling and the kitchen has so many things, Brock! Buck says I’m not allowed to use the waffle maker unless I have supervision, please Brock? _Please_?”

Brock nodded with a long exhale, he figured if he needed a nap he could sick TJ on anyone that gave him grief. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go make us some waffles.”

Throwing the blanket off him, TJ righted himself excitedly and picked up Brock’s t-shirt to hand it over He pulled it on before fixing the twisted way his sweatpants were situated on him. TJ went off to the connecting bathroom and came back with his toothbrush and too much toothpaste applied to it that Brock took appreciatively. He rinsed his mouth out at the sink, fixed his hair as best he good to look somewhat decent just in case anyone woke up while they were cooking, and used the toilet.  


Soon he was back in the room ready for whatever plans TJ had with homemade waffles.  


“I really should eat somethin’ quick and take a jog around before I do anythin’ else- ”

“No! No jogging today, Brock!” TJ cried out, knowing he was only teasing but he kept his arms wrapped around his either way. “There’s no time for that, just time for waffles!”

“Alright, alright.” He grinned, shaking his head at him. “Ya win.”

They both headed out into the hallway, calm serenity around the house before anyone else was awake. It was nice -well it was until TJ was taking his hand and incessantly tugging on it like the waffles would go missing soon if they didn’t make them right away. He began to smell coffee wafting towards his nose and it left him wondering if it really was only them up.

His inquiry was quickly answered when he heard quiet humming and a clinking of dishes from the kitchen until a fork fell and it was followed by a small sound of disappointed aggravation. He looked over at TJ who didn’t seem all that surprised, not even bothering to run ahead to investigate, which only made Brock more curious. They followed the sounds and Brock entered the kitchen expecting Clint rummaging through the fridge for something to eat or at least the one responsible for putting together a decent pot of coffee.

He stood in the doorway, allowing himself to drop a shoulder against it lazily to let out a wisecrack, but he abruptly stopped just as he opened his mouth to ask Clint if he even got any sleep. He caught a glimpse of very familiar dark brown hair and realized that it definitely wasn’t who he expected.

Brock’s first instinct was to turn and run back to his room to hide in bed because TJ was already holding their attention since he had jogged into the kitchen and perched himself up on one of the stools at the counter island right at home.

It was the sight of Jack wearing a pale blue apron and picking up bits of eggshell off the floor that caused him to stay. He watched him smile at TJ when he was upright again, the light of the early morning casting him in soft edges like he wasn’t for this world, or perhaps Brock just wasn’t completely awake yet. His hair was tousled and messy, his worn white t-shirt practically see-through from all the abundant washes and a little too tight across the chest for Brock’s comfort. He actually remembered that t-shirt oddly enough, one Jack preferred to wear because it was one of those pieces of clothing he liked for no real reason and it was curious to see he still had it, sure that it should have come apart at the seams by now. Jack’s sweats hung low and Brock could see the cut of his hipbones if he concentrated hard enough to look through the tee.

“Do you want me to make you some eggs, Teej?” Jack asked, his voice thick with sleep that meant he hadn’t been there for long when TJ decided to bust into his bedroom and wake him up.  


Brock had a momentary thought that this was something done on purpose.

TJ shook his head, smiling at him as he reached for a piece of mango Jack had already cut up into cubes on one of the cutting boards and suddenly Brock was more inclined to wonder if TJ was up to no good.

Not that it mattered what was going on, Brock still found himself staring at Jack like their past early mornings, when sleep still hung off his ex and he was yawning to himself over the counter. His eyes would always stay partially closed like they were now and yet he still managed to look beautiful, cracking another egg into the bowl and whisking them all together.  


Brock knew he should have spoken up sooner, especially when TJ turned his way but said nothing to call upon his attention. It was a weird sensation to cling to the very last second he had with this serene version of Jack who hadn’t yet noticed he was there, to cherish even if he really had no right to. He knew he should though, finally taking a careful and timid step forward into the kitchen.

“Mornin’.” Brock greeted quietly.

Jack let the bowl slip out of his hand from the angle he had tilted it to whisk air into the eggs and the mixture sloshed about as it balanced itself on the counter. The whisk’s heavy handle took a dive the other way and flipped out and onto the floor as TJ released a small surprised gasp. At least the scrambled eggs managed to stay inside the righted dish much to everyone’s relief.

“Hey.” Jack mumbled, clearing his throat a little. “I uh.” He paused and looked up at TJ smiling at him and his eyes narrowed slightly before relaxing again. It was quick and easily something looked over but Brock wondered if he had the same thought as him over the whole meeting. “I was done s-s-sleeping.” He frowned to himself, reaching for the paper towels.

“I wasn’t. Someone woke me up.” Brock said as he stepped forward and before Jack could say anything, he plucked the roll away from his hands and knelt down to clean up the mess himself.

“Don’t miss any of it,” Jack soured, his voice coming back to him finally. “T-the last thing we need is for Lucky to get sick.”

“You always say that first line when I’m on my knees, seems _that_ hasn’t changed.” Brock teased, in the mood to be a little shit as he snagged a bottle of dish soap and a wet sponge from the counter.

Jack made a sound that Brock had only heard twice before in his lifetime, it was a cross between choking and trying to forcefully fight his own body to keep it quiet. He kept his head ducked away to savor the feeling of superiority, practically swimming in it when he looked up to notice the slight pinking around Jack’s ears.

It was strange, seeing him so awkward like this. Granted it wasn’t so polarizing from last night but he had a knack for keeping himself astute and in control of himself. The night before he was mainly that way, calculating and keeping himself together, making sure he was in charge of everything. But here, he was different; his guard was apparently down and he was a little uneasy.

“I take it you’re still not a morning person, even if you can’t sleep.” Brock said lightly.

Jack didn’t look amused, all the hostility from last night coming back despite TJ watching them closely. Brock only went back to scrubbing around the last bit of stray egg and the room fell eerily quiet.

“S-stop pretending you have a right to know me.” Jack finally said scathingly. “You’re only making yourself look stupid.”

Brock couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he finished cleaning the floor. “Yeah, that’s the plan alright. If I can look at least half as stupid as you sound being an asshole, then it’s a rousin’ success in my book.” He threw back brazenly and then shrugged. “Gonna be hard with what I’m up against but gonna have fun tryin’.”  


Jack glared at him for a moment before he turned to the stove and began heating the frying pan he already had on one of the elements. He grabbed a mixing bowl from a side cabinet and placed it on the counter before he set out looking for something in one of the pantry closets.

“A-and here I was thinking I would have an hour, maybe two of peace. Get some time to s-s- ” Jack closed his eyes with a pinched face before trying again. “Time to s-spend alone with TJ. I wanted to c-catch up before anyone else was awake and you had to crawl out of your hole and ruin it all.” He paused in thought before going back to what he was doing. “Don’t you usually s-sleep until close to eight?”

TJ made a small noise, mouth full of papaya and he quickly swallowed down what he had before waving a hand out in assistance. “I like spending time with you both!”

Brock cringed, more internally than external. Jack had paused despite half his body hidden behind one of the doors and in a blink he was ducking inside back to shuffling around again. It didn’t take too much to notice how stiff Jack’s shoulders were as he came back to the counter with a canister of flour leaving him wondering just how much he really was to blame.  


His stuttering was coming out a little too much, like he was blindsided and it made him feel guilty. But then Brock had to remind himself that it didn’t give Jack a free pass on being a dick. Maybe Jack really had planned all this time to have a chance to hang out with just TJ and no one else, which would be why he was so irritable. He knew from Bucky that sometimes work took a lot of Jack’s time and he tried his best even though sometimes his best only managed to get in some time on the phone with the twins. Brock had to tell himself that in all likeliness that was it because he honestly had no effect on the other man, no matter how much he wanted to.

Brock flashed a smile to TJ, watching him give one back in return before turning on his stool to see what Jack was up to.

“I wasn’t kiddin’.” Brock shrugged, rinsing the sponge under the faucet before putting it away. “The Kid woke me up wantin’ some waffles, didn’t know you were even awake.”

TJ gasped, hand slapping over his mouth and Jack stopped, eyes going slightly wide in surprise before relaxing as he looked directly at TJ and he pursed his lips at the implication while Brock stared at the two of them. It took a moment for his brain to get up to speed when he was still half asleep but then he realized why TJ was looking so guilty.

“Teej, you didn’t.” Brock accused, a little surprised at him.

TJ’s eyes widened a little as his hands came in to clasp together, wringing them pensively. “I-I wanted you both to make waffles with me, like before! Please don’t be mad, I-I’m sorry. I don’t like you fighting, I just wanted to eat waffles with you, Brock- ” He turned his head towards Jack. “And you, Jackie! Just like old times,” How voice lowered a little. “Like we used to, when everyone was happy. I’m sorry! Don’t be mad!”

He sniffled a little and Brock winced, coming around the island counter space to put an arm around TJ and pull him into a hug. “Hey, Kiddo. Come on. You know we ain’t mad but sometimes people jus don’t get along, sometimes if ya do stuff like this, it ain’t gonna be pretty and they may get upset or sad and ya don’t want that. Me and Jackie, yeah we fight and say things but we’re never gonna do that to ya. We ain’t ever gonna stop bein’ yer friend, you know that, yeah?”

TJ looked at him, turning to Jack for reassurance of that statement and Jack gave him an earnest smile and a nod. “We can’t pretend to be like before, Teej, but that doesn’t mean Brock and I don’t love you. You’re important to us, okay?”

Nodding slowly, head ducked down a little in shame, TJ accepted it and nodded. Brock wasn’t entirely sure he really understood what it all meant in his and Jack’s statement if after two years he believed a simple set up of getting them into the same kitchen would help them get together. He _was_ related to Bucky who was one of the most stubborn people he’d met..well besides Steve. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the last attempt he’d make.

“M’sorry Brock. For waking you up, that was wrong of me please don’t be mad. I’m sorry Jack for ruining breakfast waffles by waking Brock up.”  


“It’s okay.” Came out of their mouths at the same time and Jack pressed his lips together, ducking his head away and Brock noticed the way he made a fist with his hand, pressing his knuckles into the marble countertop.

Brock turned to the living room and came back with a pack of crayons and one of TJ’s coloring books, placing them down for him to use. “Let's jus make the best of it. TJ, you work on a picture and Jack’s gonna get the waffles made.” Brock accommodated. “Ain’t like I can get back to sleep anyway.”

“Okay!” TJ enthused, excitedly opening the pack and flipping through all the fresh pages for a picture to choose.

He could feel Jack’s eyes on him, but he kept himself focused on TJ who seemed relieved he wasn’t in hot water anymore. When their eyes met he could have sworn concern was laced in his gaze. It was almost like a question, and Brock wasn’t sure if the question was if TJ could really leave them alone in an attempt to have them spend time together or if Jack was actually concerned about his sleeping habits knowing how he hated being without someone next to him.

As quickly as their gaze met, he looked away. Jack went back to adding ingredients to what Brock realized was waffle batter and clearly tuned everything else out. Brock picked up the scrambled eggs that had been left to the side and Jack’s head snapped up angrily. He opened his mouth but then paused, like he was trying to find the right words to tear him apart with.

“Let me.” Brock spoke up before he could. “Could use a second pair of hands.”

Jack’s brows furrowed, lips pursed in a thin line as he watched on while Brock whisked the eggs again into a frothy airiness that they’d been at before. He turned around to take the bowl over to the stove, adding some butter to the warmed pan.

He approached the edge of the kitchen, slipping into the pantry closet to grab a crisp white apron off of the hook beside the door and pulling it on, letting the cloth drape over his front. Jack looked at him with narrowed eyes while Brock went on tying the apron behind his back.

It was clear that Jack was desperate to make a quick remark but TJ watched on and he knew he was thinking better of it. Instead he took a separate bowl from beside where Brock stood, placing himself almost side by side.

“W-what are you _really_ doing? Can’t you go for a jog?” He hissed low.

Brock frowned, finding himself glaring at the soft bubbling of the eggs before he sighed, whispering gently. “Let me get this load outta yer hands and I promise, I’ll be gone. M’jus tryin’ ta help, the Kid’s jus doin’ what he wishes existed, no point in upsettin’ ‘im further.”

“Excuse me?” Jack tilted his head to really look at him. “I was doing just f-fine here, and if you think that jumping onto this will somehow make you look good in front of- ”

“He’s not gonna think one of us is better than the other. We’re like divorced parents to ‘im, he jus wants us to be normal like before we broke up. You _know_ that.” Brock interrupted, shrugging his shoulders and stirring the eggs around to pick up the cooked bits and let the well of uncooked yolk spread further out onto the hot surface.

“Oh, _yeah_.” Jack scoffed. “Because t-this is going to make him feel so much better, right? You think he’s going to j-just accept things after this? I only wanted some time with him because I haven’t gotten the chance. I knew you hadn’t changed one bit, I knew you were s-still going to be the same selfish dick who wanted to insert yourself into every li-little thing I did and make s-sure you were part of it even if it meant- ”

“_Jacek_.” Brock said quietly, trying to simmer the frustration welling up within him and calm Jack’s anxiety down at the same time. “Will ya jus shut the fuck up and let me help?”

Jack stopped short at the mere sound of his given name, his eyes boring into Brock’s head as he just stared, stunned. Brock wondered if he made a tactical mistake using it with Jack so close and the stove still on.

He didn’t answer at first and only glared while Brock continued gently moving the bits of scrambled egg around so none of it burned; he’d mastered it nowadays after Jack taught him the basics of cooking so he wasn’t left starving when on his own.

Raising his hand up slightly before him like his brain told him he had planned to pick up something but didn’t know what, Jack suddenly seemed to snap out of his deer-like expression and back into something more deadly. He moved the bowl closer to the carton of eggs next to the stove and cracked a few for the waffle batter.  


“It’s jus breakfast.” Brock pointed out, “You’ve got the rest of vacation to spend with TJ. Besides, he thinks the world of ya no matter what, trust me.”

The silence was tense, like Jack was just waiting for Brock to take over and make it his own, like he didn’t exist and while not much was actually done before even arriving, he was sure Jack would still get bent out of shape over it.

“I ain’t tryin’ to sabotage yer personal time.” Brock assured again. “Promise.”

Jack finally relaxed, focused back entirely on the batter he was putting together; Brock took the chance and plugged the maker on while Jack had gone to melt some butter in a small bowl. He watched him pour in some milk to eggs, then the butter and vanilla, busily whisking it all together while Brock kept him in his peripheral vision as he transferred the eggs out of the pan and onto a plate.

They worked without speaking, and with TJ too busy on his coloring to interrupt them. Brock got to the toast next and cut up some more fruit to add to the little platter Jack had started that TJ already partially finished off while Jack finally began on the waffles. It was enough food to feed them and have a little extra in case anyone was peckish before Mama Frances and company came in to get everything ready for a proper buffet style breakfast spread.

While whisking some heavy cream, Brock had begun to hum out one of the songs that was stuck in his head from last night. It was typical for him to do while he was fixated on a task at hand, it always had been. Jack would usually tease him when it happened, playfully copying him when he caught him doing it, knowing full well that Brock never realized he was humming in the first place.

Snapping out of his whisking trance, Brock realized the humming had turned into singing under his breath and he caught himself. _That_ habit was more personal. He barely sang and he wasn’t really secure with it no matter how much his friends tried getting him to join in the fun of karaoke. He only started doing it in front of Jack when he was really comfortable with him and he did it in front of TJ because he knew he’d never receive criticizing comments about it. He felt his face flush and tried to figure out why he’d actually started doing it. When he glanced up to see if Jack was still being annoyed with him, he instead found his eyes were a calm sea green today, already focused on him.

The way he looked at him had Brock a little tongue tied and taken aback. Jack stared unashamedly with almost a shocked surprise to him. It wasn’t angry or irritated, and Brock could have sworn the expression harbored a little bit of sadness.

“You still sing.” Jack lamely offered. “W-when you’re trying to focus.”

“Yeah, I- ” Brock stumbled, unsure of what to say when he didn’t seem annoyed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was doin’ it again.”

“I know.” Jack reminded him.

It came in all at once how Brock couldn’t handle it anymore. There they were, dancing around each other in the kitchen of one of their best friend’s summer home. The place where Brock really felt like he was coming of age and realizing things way too fast for his brain to comprehend the second he saw Jack in nothing but swim trunks.

It was one of the dumbest things he could imagine considering he’d seen Jack in less than that numerous times. But there was something in that one moment, the way Jack smiled at him when they walked side by side, bare arms brushing up against each other and impulses kicked in. Brock had to react then and there, his hand easily catching into Jack’s before they even met the water and Jack ducked his head like he was suddenly shy but didn’t let him go.  


They never talked about it, or said anything afterwards for a long time, Brock was in a panic about falling for his best friend and Jack always waited for him to move. He noticed how they always physically kept in contact with each other after that though; a hook of pinkie fingers when watching movies, Brock sometimes looping his arm around Jack’s when they wandered together through the park, or shoes bumped up against shoes under the table at the diner they frequented. Now they were shooting secret glances from across the room when they thought the other wasn’t looking, trying to pretend that everything was fine and normal.

But..it wasn’t fine. _Brock wasn’t fine._ It was supposed to be him getting married in paradise on a privately owned island beneath the warm tropical sun, surrounded by all of his friends and everyone so happy for him and his significant other. Jack was the one who was supposed to be standing at the altar before him, reciting his sappy and sentimental vows and holding a ring nervously in his hand.

Brock spent the last two years of his life convincing himself he felt nothing for Jack, that he never had in the first place, that their breakup didn’t destroy him and only benefited to force him to build from the ground up again. But that wasn’t true. He never meant what he said that night, that it was just Brock trying to build himself up in an attempt to hurt Jack the way he hurt him. He hoped saying it would have been a way to help him, but it only hurt him more.

He should have run after him. Should have chased him down the hall, wrapped his arms around him, begged him to stay, told him how much he loved him over and over again. He shouldn’t have cared what his neighbors would have thought if they heard, he should have screamed at the top of his lungs how important Jack was to him and how he didn’t think it was possible to survive without Jack in his life.

Brock wished he had been honest. He wished he hadn’t let his pride get the best of him like it always tended to do. He wished he had been able to make Jack love him again, to have had a chance again with him if they had only called each other out of the blue and tried to mend it earlier. He wished it was the two of them with rings on their fingers belonging to one another.

Instead, they stared at each other with so much fear it was almost tangible. They slept on different beds in different parts of the beach house. They choreographed their movements to avoid one another the best they could, that was already obvious. They tried to hurt each other through mean and angry comments and dirty looks. They pretended that all of it made things normal and fine.

Brock wanted to step forward and wrap his arms around Jack’s neck when he felt unhappy, to whisper to him every feeling he had denied himself since he left, feel Jack’s arms come around him like they always did when he approached him like before. All Jack resembled in the present time was how he seemed to want to turn and run.

“S-stop looking at me like that,” Jack snarked, though with no heat in his voice.

“Like what?” Brock asked, he couldn’t stop himself from turning away.

Jack glanced away, scraping at some of the excess batter that was cooking away at the sides after taking the two that just finished cooking. Brock continued to watch him, every thought racing through his head threatening to spill from his lips. He had held it in for so long, but that urgency pushed at him to act on it.

“Jack- ” Brock whispered, stepping in a little closer.

“I’m glad I made the decision to come. I was so worried.” Jack blurted out suddenly. “I think this visit is going to prove once and for all how well we’ve managed. It’s definitely going to be a great chance at rebuilding our friendship again.”

Brock’s eyes widened slightly, drawing back. Jack was still turned away from him, pouring the last of the waffle batter into the maker. He moved around the kitchen, head up and confident, like something had fit into place for him once again. Brock watched on in confusion.

“Two years is a while to be apart.” Jack carried on. “But it gave us the time to get over any of those annoying lingering feelings we might have had for each other. I’d love to be able to go back like when we were kids again and just be able to talk.”

TJ looked up from his coloring, a smile on his face and Brock couldn’t even bear that. It felt like an arrow tore deep into his chest, and he had to hold onto the counter when he felt his legs buckle slightly.  


Jack continued working around the kitchen like nothing had happened, pouring TJ a fresh glass of juice and brushing his hand across his hair adoringly while Brock turned his head to blink back the tears that threatened his eyes. He almost startled to the sudden sound of a woman singing, her words in a different language going on with a dance-worthy beat and he realized that Jack had gotten his phone out to put something nice on for TJ to listen to, who was already moving to it in his stool.

“It’s not like we really meant anything like that to each other, right? Both of us made the stupid assumption that we did for awhile. Glad we finally cleared the air.” Jack chuckled easily, like he wasn’t stomping down on Brock’s heart with every word.

Brock’s hands shook, balling his hands into fists to stop it, clenching them as tightly as possible. There was barely a noise but he could hear it from towards the back of the house, the first signs of the others waking up and moving around for the morning. Even with the poppy cheery music droning on in the background, he could still pick up Bucky’s unmistakable laughter.

“We were awful to each other.” Jack remarked with a shake of his head. “Just a couple of guys barely stepping out of high school and clinging to something that so obviously wasn’t even there.”

All this time, Brock had told himself the same thing. But there was a difference in trying to convince himself that it was how Jack felt versus hearing the words directly from his mouth. Brock’s bottom lip wobbled slightly, and he bit down on it until he tasted blood.

“I’m glad you thought so too.” Brock eventually said, voice somehow leveled despite how defiant he wanted to be. Direct and angry along with it. “Can’t believe we were so stupid.”

Jack laughed in agreement before grabbing some plates and going ahead with setting the table in the other room. Brock moved towards the fridge, pulling out a few things, setting them onto the counter for quick retrieval.

Maybe he was lying, Brock considered desperately. But when he looked into Jack’s eyes again as he entered the kitchen once more, he was met with a wide smile, the one that went all the way to the crinkle of his eyes. It was then that Brock realized he had been holding onto a dream that was even more unrealistic than he previously thought.

“Look, Brock! Look at my picture, I finished it because it’s time for waffles!” Brock looked over and he choked down the panicked sob threatening to leap out of him.

TJ decided to draw something instead of coloring one already offered and it was the three of them holding hands together as it was held up so proudly.

“Do you like it, Brock? Huh?” He pointed out one with spiky black hair that defied the laws of gravity. “That’s you! And- ” He traced out a brown haired man that was taller than the trees they were standing beside. “That’s Jack! What do you think?”

TJ was the smaller boy in the middle, holding both their hands and Brock approached it, taking the art piece carefully to stare at it. There was a happy sun smiling away and a house puffing out smoke from the chimney, even the flowers were happy to be there and Brock forced himself to bury all his unhappiness for a moment so he could smile.  


“This is gotta be one of yer best yet, Kiddo. It’s beautiful! Make sure ya show Bucky and Steve when they come down to the kitchen, they’re gonna be excited at how ya keep gettin’ better ‘an better at it!”

Brightening tenfold, TJ’s eyes widened, pressing the picture to his chest. “Really?! You think so? Steve paints the prettiest pictures, even when he does it for work and then he draws me so many nice things! Do you really think he’ll like it?”

Brock broke in a new smile, he knew TJ had a crush on Steve, well everyone knew. It was a child-like attachment and always wanted to make sure he was impressing him. He couldn’t wait to have him as his future brother-in-law and they would be all happy together despite already living in the same place for the past five years.

Brock wanted to leave, forcing himself to take a couple of calming breaths while Jack paused to take a look and threw out the same enthusiasm to the picture as he did, though his seemed so much more genuine, probably because he had nothing else tangling him up. He eventually walked around them and grabbed some glasses, slightly nodding his head to the music before disappearing for the dining table again.

“Come on, Teej. Time to eat, your waffles are gonna get cold.” Jack called out and TJ practically leapt off of his stool.

“Yay waffles! Come on, Brock!”

“I’ll be there in a second, Kid. Just gonna pour myself a coffee.” _And dig my own grave._ He thought before actually serving himself a cup and heading for the dining room even if he was ready to run to his room and shut himself in for the day.

Jack was already into a newspaper Brock didn’t know existed, coffee mug in hand and some scrambled eggs on his plate. TJ had two waffles stacked onto his own, kneeling on his chair and partially looking like he was going to climb onto the table with the way he was reaching for the bowl of berries. He always forgot he wasn’t physically a small boy anymore.

Brock reached over to grab it for him and TJ smiled before scooping a large dollop of whipped cream and topping it with fruit. His tongue poked out a little as he turned over the bottle of syrup they found in the fridge and Brock closely watched to make sure TJ wasn’t about to put himself into some kind of sugar coma. A small sprinkle of powdered sugar went after that and TJ was done, pausing with his breakfast when he noticed how little Jack had on his plate, Brock quickly adding a slice of toast and some bits of cheese and fruit so he wasn’t harassed next.

“Would you like waffles, Jack? You only have eggs on your plate.”

Jack looked up from his paper and gave TJ a smile. “No thank you, TJ. I’ll just have some coffee and finish off these eggs. I’m not really that hungry.”

“Coffee isn’t good for you alone, I even tell Bucky that! You need waffles, I’m gonna get you some waffles!” With that announcement TJ abandoned his plate to lean over the table and take Jack’s and Brock could see the man contemplating in arguing about it but he already knew that wouldn’t have changed a thing. They both knew how fruitless it would have been and Brock couldn’t help but smirk, watching TJ pile two waffles on top of the eggs and fixing it up with syrup, fruit, cream and a heavy dusting of powdered sugar.  


“There! Now you have a nice breakfast too!”

Jack looked aghast at the calorie count Brock knew he was doing in his head. Out of the pair of them Jack was less inclined to worry about them but he still did at times and Brock snorted to himself, taking one waffle just in case TJ decided to go on a tirade on him and opting to only add a little of the berries.

“Thank you, TJ.” Jack finally said and dug in after one final look at his plate. Brock might have felt a tiny bit sorry for him if he hadn’t just had his heart kicked in. At least his suffering was temporary.

“You’re welcome!” TJ smiled widely, cheeks already stained with the juice of the berries and a smear of whipped cream. He was clearly enjoying himself and Brock felt a little relief from his pain.  


Despite the discomfort of sitting there with Jack when he really wanted to be off the island and back in New York, fond memories kicked in about TJ dropping in for weekends and doing this. Sleepy morning breakfasts where they were woken up earlier than they planned and sugar laden meals were on the menu, TJ would love eating them and Jack would only smile at Brock because they wanted nothing else but to make him happy. He was like their little brother and was always going to be.

They ate in silence, Brock hoping to get it over with quickly as he doubled food on his fork, Jack’s face still in the local newspaper.

“Jack..Brock..do you remember..when we would go to the beach when it was hot outside? It’s hot now, can we go together? Please? I miss it!”

Brock immediately felt Jack’s eyes on him and he turned his head towards him, swallowing thickly before going back to his food. They used to do that a lot, or visit Coney Island together, like a little family. The more he delved into memories with TJ in them, the worse he felt.

When he went to say something to let TJ down gently, Jack loudly snapped his newspaper, folding it neatly and resting it to the side before giving TJ a small smile.

“I’d love to, but I’m going to have to help Steve with a few things today. Raincheck?”

Brightening at the chance it may happen, as much as Brock didn’t like leading TJ on it just helped ease a bit of the tension built around the table; TJ nodded eagerly.

“Okay, Jack!” Promptly going back to his waffles.  


It felt nice that it was so easy and Brock stared out the window to the sight of palm trees framing a soft blue sky as he ate another forkful of food.

Bucky entered the dining room and greeted them with a smile, Brock catching the quick way he looked between him and Jack before pressing a kiss on top of TJ’s head.

Sipping down the last of his fruit juice, TJ seemed to think back to something and he blinked a few times at the sudden arrival of it coming back to him. “Bucky? What does as..hole mean?”

Bucky immediately snapped his head furiously towards Jack and Brock’s direction. “Who taught you that word, TJ?”

Brock inhaled the food the wrong way and suddenly he was choking, Jack pushed himself out of his chair to come around and firmly smack him against the back a few times until he was coughing up bits of egg and waffle that all over the table.

“Brock?”

He didn’t need Jack’s sympathetic voice, waving him off. “M’fine.”

Bucky was still glaring at both of them as TJ was approaching him to make sure he really was okay.  


God, it was going to be a long fucking day.


	4. He didn't love you

Brock stared out at the calm crystal blue water against the horizon as it rolled along the off-white sand and onto his bare toes, his feet sinking in deeper. The rays of the high hung sun could barely reach him where he was, two palms bracketing at either side protectively as he lazily swayed to the gentle breeze, perched on the middle edge of one of the few hammocks tied up around surrounding trees on the property. From somewhere above, birds called out to one another as they circled around along the sky occasionally skimming the water before disappearing off again.

He was fine. He kept having to tell himself, but he was, it was okay to need a break after an entire day of interacting with a large group. A boat rocked on the water, sail billowing against the stronger pace of the wind out there and Brock wished he was aboard, maybe he’d do some fishing then. Jack always promised to teach him because he was the one that loved f- he caught himself and shook his head, kicking at some sand.   


From behind footsteps approached slowly and Brock braced himself.

“You know,” Natasha sighed, tucking herself onto the hammock right next to him. A few seconds later Lucky walked alongside with TJ when he joined them in sunglasses and a wide brimmed sun hat. He was holding a colorful sand pail and a netted bag containing tools and moulds for a sand castle. He was also wearing so much sunblock that he looked like he was a melting wax statue and Brock made a mental note to tell Bucky he needed to loosen the leash on his brother a tiny bit. “Brooding shouldn’t be allowed when you’re on vacation, it’s not fair to yourself.”

Brock offered a small smile, but his eyes remained on the water. If he focused hard enough, he could forget all the hurt and negative emotions holed up inside of him and just see everything for its beauty. Natasha reached out to touch his hand lightly, allowing him to see the worry grace her pretty face.

The entire house waking up to Jack and Brock having breakfast alongside each other with TJ in a kind of mildly tense peace had certainly been a surprise, though no one said anything out loud. Natasha seemed to be watching him more closely than usual over it, as was Pepper, and Steve was actively giving him more of his sad puppy dog looks of concern like he was ready to catch him in case he might fall apart at any moment. At least Bucky was trying to give him some level of space like the others.

“How long has it been?” Brock asked quietly as TJ handed him his toy wolf to hold without a word so it wouldn’t get wet before he placed his pail close by and unloaded his tools down onto the sand, Brock’s own toes trailing through the water. It was a terrible spot to build a castle but he knew TJ wanted to stay close, like a beacon, and Brock appreciated it.

“About an hour.” Natasha said. “Pepper sent me over.”

Brock nodded because he didn’t expect anything less, shaking his head as he drew a sip from his beer; it was warm by then but it was something. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught Pepper standing at the top of the stone stairway leading down from the cliffside the property rested on. He could tell she was pretending to look out at the ocean, herself in a sun hat and leaning up against Scott who was looking through a pair of binoculars towards the little boat and saying something to her.   


He knew she was watching him though, no matter what was going on, like she was waiting for him to self destruct like he did those years before. They made a weird pair; he was the first to admit it, but he always looked up to her, wise beyond her years.   


He wish he never came, while appreciated, none of it was helping.

He hooked his index with Nat’s and gave it a small shake before he pulled away and rose to his feet, handing her over TJ’s wolf. He really didn’t want to go back to the house but he’d taken enough time away for himself in exile, it wasn’t fair to Bucky and Steve. At least the amount of people last night were all that he had to prepare for, the rest were at a resort hotel on an island only a ride away and all they had to do was show up for the wedding and have a good time. Unfortunately, it also reminded Brock he had nothing planned yet for Bucky’s bachelor party and it was coming up real soon.

“Hello, Brock.” Pepper grinned as he approached. “How’s the beach?”

Brock smiled politely and nodded in a way she knew meant it was good if she wished to go down and check it out.   


He was still feeling out of sorts with Jack earlier but at least when he really thought about it, he had support. It was really rare to be able to see everyone, especially Pepper, these days. She was so busy being CEO and usually when they had the chance to catch up it was usually over a power lunch or a quick dinner where Brock was on high alert that she just may have to say hi and only had a moment before another emergency came up. He got used to it after all these years but it was nice when she was able to let loose and relax, she deserved it.

“It’s real swell. TJ might come up ‘ere and drag ya down soon, needs to get his two favorite ladies soakin’ up the sun with ‘im. I like it but I needed to come back up ‘ere, there’s only so long I can stand the sand before it starts gettin’ into weird places.”

Pepper looked at him, the disbelief in her eyes obvious. Brock squeezed her forearm affectionately before he settled in near the back of a small patio gathering at a sunken floor space with built-in bench seating padded thick with small decorative pillows. He preferred to linger in the background and listen to the conversations going on and Pepper seemed happy just to see he was making an effort to be there at all.

The group exchanged stories, bouncing off one topic to another and chaining off something mentioned from a different subject to branch new conversations. Brock kept his mouth shut for the most part, laughing when it was expected and going through training exercises in his head to pass the time.

“I thought you had pitched yourself into the ocean.” A familiar voice rang up as they sat themselves down beside him and a tight line formed across Brock’s lips over the incoming interrogation he knew was inevitable.   


“Loki.” Brock did his best to sound casual. “How are ya?”

He watched him slip on some sunglasses as he nodded in greeting to everyone else before turning his way. “Better than could be expected, did Thor tell you? Our flight was delayed and it was like sitting in an oven, I swear. At least over here it’s temperature controlled, I was worried I may sweat through my clothes and that would not bode well for anyone. Where’s Jack gone? I could’ve sworn he came out here.”

“How should I know?” Brock blurted out before he could help himself, the corner of Loki’s lips quirked upward and he knew he just fell for the bait without even any effort.

“Lovely spot for a wedding,” Loki complimented, casually switching subjects as he stared up at the sky. “But I had a few suggestions Steve just wouldn’t consider, which I think would have worked better and it’s so very unfortunate.”

Brock listened to him list off places around the world that could be suitable for future wedding destinations and what he personally liked about them. Loki was one of the most well-traveled people he had ever met and still so young, it was how he made a living, writing about and reviewing the most unique and beautiful places on earth and there was no goal to stop. Sometimes they really didn’t get along but he admired him for being able to see everything he wanted.

“ -definitely a perfect place for your wedding, Brock.” Loki offered, expression set on how much he believed that.

Brock choked on the drink he had taken only a few minutes earlier, smacking at his chest a little. Pepper opened her mouth to speak, but Steve casually held her back. Brock offered a simple smile, promising to keep the suggestions in mind in the future. Loki did that a lot, spoke without thinking, after knowing him for so long he knew it wasn’t malicious, not that he had much of a romantic future.

“Now,” Loki pressed his hands together. “Where’s Tony? I haven’t seen that fool all day.”

All at once the mood shifted, and Brock felt annoyance taking over. Pepper touched his shoulder lightly, a gentle promise that everything was fine, and a silent request for him to contain himself. She easily explained that Tony would be arriving just for the ceremony and reception, and that he couldn’t manage to get more time off than that.

Loki launched into a rant about how Pepper had made it and she obviously took some time out to miss work because this was clearly important enough to do that, which ended up turning into a discussion about the area where the actual ceremony was taking place and the reception, which of course Steve had a book for them on the subject to peruse through. Brock silently looked up at the sky and thanked Sarah for Steve’s ability to shift the conversation to something more diplomatic without anyone making it a big deal.

Brock risked a look at Pepper and noticed the way her eyes fixated on her hands. It was obvious she was lost in thought, systematically answering questions and contributing to the conversation just enough to pass as if nothing was bothering her, even if Brock could relate. That it did impact her that Tony wasn’t able to attend and how she wished to be in his company with such a wonderful backdrop and soak in a tiny vacation together.

He liked to think of her as a mother figure to him, though only ten years older, always around in some effort no matter how busy she was. She was like that with everyone, it was why they were always hovering around and holding on to every word, he just wasn’t sure about Tony. He liked him a lot, he was just frustrated at how his job always took him away and seemed to miss that his own girlfriend yearned for his company. No one wanted to interfere though, the pair of them were able to settle things together and make it work for them. The group did however want the whole relationship to be happy all the time and maybe that was on them, expecting an impossible outcome without putting reality into consideration. Brock just always hated when she was stuck without Tony and making excuses, but the two of them knew what they were doing and had been together for longer than he could even remember. They were all just being overly protective, especially him.

Brock excused himself and walked over to the bar where Scott had designated himself as bartender; Clint, Thor and Sam hung around, chatting it up. Scott immediately opened another beer when he caught him approaching and slid it across the smooth wood and he gave him a thankful smile for the effort.

“Appreciate it, Lang.”

Scott nodded to him as did the guys and Brock skirted away after to the nearby deck lounges to lay himself out. He pulled his sunglasses on and decided to just soak in the sunshine, overhearing talk about going to check out the beach down below before dinner.   


Clint kicked at his shoe in his own obscure way of asking to join them and Brock shook his head. “M’good ‘ere.”

Giving him a shrug and a smile that at least he tried, Clint jogged off after the guys and Brock turned his head to the sound of TJ stepping out through the sliding door. He must have missed him going inside to change after hanging out with Natasha, who was now watching TJ wave Brock’s way before helping himself to the bowl of peanuts left out at the bar then dropped down next to him with some peel off stickers, a pair of coloring books and a box of crayons.

“I’m going to change my clothes, you mind hanging out with TJ for a bit?”   


Brock gave Natasha a thumbs up and dropped his head back against the cushion padding. “How was the sand castle buildin’, Kiddo?”

TJ didn’t look up from his activity book, coloring in a purple frog with a green crown on his head adorned with pink jewels. He made a disappointed noise and continued on with his work. “Lucky kept trying to smell the castle and the water was washing it away! I started to dig a hole instead but then the water was rushing into it!”

Chuckling, Brock shook his head. “Maybe next time we’ll go a bit further from the water, huh?”

“Yeah, okay Brock.” He held up his book. “What should I color next?”

Brock slipped his sunglasses down a little to examine the page. “I dunno, how ‘bout that bear playin’ the guitar, he looks like he needs some colorin’.”

Looking at what he was referring to, TJ broke out in a fit of giggles and Brock quirked a brow curiously, poking him softly in the ribs until he was squirming away and laughing harder at being tickled, hand smacking at his. “That tickles!”

“What’re ya all laughin’ about then?”

Calming himself down, he grinned and pointed to the bear like it was obvious. “He looks just like you, Brock. You don’t play the guitar though, maybe you got Jack’s guitar in this.”

Brock felt himself sober up again, shrugging casually since he didn’t really know what to say exactly about that. “Yeah, maybe.”   


There was a pause. “Did I make you mad, Brock? I’m sorry..”

Brock could hear random conversation around them, glancing up ahead at the group still chatting with Steve and Bucky, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. “Nah Kiddo, it ain’t you. I jus don’t feel very upliftin’ right now. M’tryin’ to get out of my mood but it’s hard.”

Putting his crayons down, TJ turned all his attention on him, brows furrowed together in concern. “Do you miss home?”

Brock shook his head.

“Did someone say something mean to you? You can tell me, I can keep a good secret!”

Smiling at him, Brock put his hand out and squeezed TJ’s arm affectionately. “No one’s mean, I jus feel a little sad I guess.”

TJ paused, and seemed to be thinking hard as he came over to share the deck chair with him and Brock shifted a little sideways to give him room to fit. “Is it Jack? Are you sad because of him?”

Contemplating being honest versus hiding his pain, Brock chewed on what to say. “I think I jus feel like I wish he wasn’t ‘ere is all. I wish we could enjoy the little vacation and he only made it for the weddin’.”

TJ was clearly surprised at the admission and it was all over his face causing Brock to feel guilty, though Jack laid it all out for him that there wasn’t anything between them and only made sure by turning his heart into dust so why lie about it? Not knowing what to say to that, TJ only leaned in and gave him a hug and Brock returned it, feeling like that was the best response he could have given back anyway.

There was familiar movement at the corner of his eye and he turned to see Jack walking away from some place, he wasn’t even sure where he’d been all this time. He watched him go and stand towards the edging of the infinity pool, staring out at the ocean; the soft salty breeze gingerly brushed along his hair though he seemed frustrated, not like the calm he encompassed before back in the kitchen.

Brock wished, if only for a moment, that Jack might understand the love he still harbored for him, the love he couldn’t deny no matter how hard he tried. He wondered if he was forever cursed with his feelings for Jack and if that meant there would be no way he’d be willing to give anyone else a chance even if he tried.

As if he knew, Jack turned around to meet Brock’s eyes and all over again in that second, it felt like they were the only two people existing once more. Even the warmth of TJ by his side suddenly disappeared despite still being next to him, it was just like everything else had just faded away and neither could help themselves. Jack turned back to the ocean, and it suddenly occurred to Brock that he never noticed Jack coming outside. That he was holding a drink in his hand, that he had no idea  _ when _ he got it or from where and if it was from the bar, did he hear what he admitted to TJ?  


Someone approached him from the side, standing next to the chair and resting a hand on his shoulder. Brock felt a pang of panic wondering if he did but then he supposed he couldn’t do anything about it now, looking up at Natasha with that sympathetic expression across her face because she always had this uncanny way of knowing what he was thinking and he leaned into the touch.

“You need to quit the sad lover bit, Brock.” Natasha joked softly. “You’ve always been better than that. Besides, anyone with eyes can see you’re pining for someone that’s obviously pining for you just as much. Also, it really doesn’t help when you didn’t just pick playdates with guys that resemble you know who.”

TJ hugged him tighter, burying his face against his neck and Brock squeezed him close. He wanted to deny her statement about him playing the sad ex  _ and _ the fact that he may have picked up a guy or two that  _ could have _ looked a little like Jack, but he wasn’t in the mood to lie, not this time.   


“I care about you a lot, but you’re not as slick as you think you are.” She playfully pinched his cheek, pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head and then walked off to join the conversation with Pepper. He was left lingering on Jack’s form and trying not to think of what she said.

It wasn’t too long after that the guys at the beach came back, shorts bogged down with water and towels around their shoulders. Their laughter rang out as they decided to join everyone lounging about and having a chat, voices began to get louder and suddenly Brock couldn’t relax anymore, though apparently TJ could, asleep while tucked tight against him and Brock wished it wasn’t as cute as it was.

There was excited cheering when Thor disappeared then came back with a bottle of champagne, laughter tearing away through the air as he and Sam wrangled glasses and poured out a drink for everyone. Brock was passed one and TJ was still dead to the world, Scott standing on one of the patio chairs to have all eyes on him as he raised a glass. He turned towards Steve and Bucky with the biggest, most fondest smile he could muster, the energy infectious. “You two are the luckiest two people to have been able to find each other, really guys, you two are special and amazing and _wow_. Finally, you’re both getting married. About time!” There were vocal murmurs of agreement to that as he raised his glass their way. “To Steve and Bucky, may we all be so lucky..well besides Pepper and Tony  _ and _ of course we can’t forget Clint and Natasha.”

There were a chorus of chuckles and clinks of glasses, Clint running over to tap his to Brock’s as Brock stole a glance at who was sharing the chance with Jack, Thor at his side to accept the position and Brock wished it was him there instead.   


He hadn’t anticipated Jack’s eyes meeting his after he took a sip of his champagne and Brock couldn’t look away. There was some more color to his face since this morning, it reminded him of times when they were together and his face would flush a little when they kissed for hours.

When Jack turned away again Brock was left stuck on random thoughts running through his mind. He mulled over Natasha’s words, mainly the comment about pining for someone that was obviously pining for him just as much. She wasn’t thinking straight, enjoying Fiji in its beauty, making sure TJ was safe so Bucky wasn’t distracted and knew she was low key making sure the wedding preparations were going smoothly behind the scenes. It took her a long time to let Clint be something serious, he wasn’t sure she had a leg to stand on with his love life as much as he appreciated her trying.

Maybe in some weird thought process she was hoping for them to be together again. It wouldn’t happen though, Jack had never loved him to begin with, he had made that much perfectly clear. They weren’t compatible for each other and this weekend was about friendship, and his best friend finally marrying his other friend. There were no plans on trying to rekindle something that had never ignited in the first place.

Brock thought about the fights. How Jack never really tried to argue with him unless he was in the mood to be goaded into it, and then they might make up with some sex or he’d take off for a long walk. Half of the bed was left empty until it was almost sunrise and he’d pretend to be asleep instead of letting him know when he would come back that he was worried sick. Jack always had one foot out the door and Brock was too blind to see it.

His mind strayed to Jack’s eyes, especially on how they looked when he laughed and when they had those little eye crinkles he adored. The way he pulled Brock closer to his side when a cool breeze picked up and side glanced over to make sure he was comfortable. His half opened lids on lazy mornings, and the sleepy afternoons. Wide eyed to messes in the kitchen from poorly made dinners when Brock was trying to impress despite Jack having said he didn’t have to. Listening to Jack’s old records with minor jokes about how old he actually was and being swept up in his arms so they could slow dance the night away like it was just the two of them that existed, that look in his eyes was always his favorite, it was the one that made Brock believe everything he’d have to say. He found comfort in that steady gaze on him even when Ikea furniture made Brock so angry and how Jack couldn’t help leaning back to stare while he was held in a tight hold and let him be the big spoon, nuzzling against his jaw and mumbling that he loved him always.

Brock needed to shake it off, walk around and move but TJ was still napping against him and he looked around absently until Clint gave him a knowing nod and pulled himself out of the group conversation, walking over to seat himself down at the foot of the lounge.

“You look like you could use a little break.”

“If ya don’t mind.”

Clint smiled, all too familiar with the territory. “I’ve seen him cry because he woke up somewhere unfamiliar and no one with him, I never wanna see it again. Go ahead.”

Brock carefully wiggled out from TJ’s hold and Clint took his place easily enough like it was second nature, which he was sure it was. “Thanks, Barton.”

Giving him a wink, Clint picked up one of the story books stacked on the other lounger and began to read it, raising his eyes up from the page a moment. “I like this one, has a good moral message.”

Shaking his head with a grin, Brock wandered down to the beach, kicking his shoes off by the steps before he wandered onto the sand; on the way to the water he picked up some stray stones so he could attempt to skip them.

He’d been concentrating so hard on his personal record and getting better that he didn’t realize when exactly Jack had ended up within arms reach of him. Instincts told him to step away, to give them more space but his stubbornness convinced him it was his spot first, so he kept still.

Jack stood with the bottom of his trouser legs rolled up just above his calves, sand sinking in between his toes, staring into the ocean. Brock knew if things were different, he could reach out easily enough and brush his knuckles along Jack’s jaw. They didn’t look at one another, Jack just standing there in silence while Brock continued to throw stones and the water carried on rolling across the shore, the faint sound of chatter from their friends in the background.

“I’m surprised you’re not sitting with all of them and catching up.” Jack said as Thor’s thunderous laugh rang out behind them.

Brock turned slightly, watching again how Jack’s hair moved softly against the light breeze. His eyes shined against the reflection of the sun, a calmness in them Brock found he still adored. It made him think about joining his friends, instead of being there on the beach alone with him and reminding him that here was where it all started. He should go and stay in the company of people that wanted him around with cold beers to help him cope rather than dwelling on how badly he and Jack got it all wrong.

In the end, Brock shrugged carelessly. “I like being right here.”

A part of him wished he hadn’t noticed the ghost of a smile on Jack’s lips before it was gone entirely.   


*****

Pepper shoved him and Bucky out through the sliding door and vaguely waved her hand towards the beach, a bonfire already glowing bright that one of the in-house stewards prepared for them, a touchpad in her other hand. “Go, have fun. He’ll be fine.”

“I know he will, Pep.” Bucky implored, guilt across his face. “But are you really sure you don’t want to join us?”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m not young like you two, TJ and I will get a quick workout in at the weight room together, maybe try out that hot tub and get in a call with Tony too. I know TJ really wants to say hi to his bots if they’re available and I like having some time to spend with him, I never get a lot of it.”

Brock rolled his eyes. “We know yer busy but you ain’t old so quit sayin’ that crap.”

Only laughing, Pepper gave him a shake of her head and they all abruptly turned to TJ shrieking bloody murder to Steve carrying him fireman style through the living room while Clint jogged along and occasionally gave his exposed side a tickle, TJ’s arm blindly trying to stop him. “Clint, _no_! Don’t be mean!”

“Hey, I’m not mean, but I’m going to take a chance when I see it!”

Steve set him down before the three of them and TJ flexed his arms in excitement, wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top clearly ready for a work out. “I’m ready, Pepper! Are you ready? I wanna use the bike thing!”

Giving one last look at them all, Pepper smiled and turned back to TJ, “Of course I am. I was only waiting for you, let’s go.”

“Yay!” TJ cried out, taking her hand to lead her towards the stairway where the mini gym was located.

Brock, for a moment, considered joining them. He hadn’t really tried working out since he landed and he knew all they were going to do tonight was drink and play dumb games around the fire while the sun finished setting down. Though, it would be fun to get it going again, he’d always been particularly good at drinking games, which he blamed on Bucky for introducing so early on in high school.

“You guys are so slow!” Scott called out as he dropped down on one of the blankets beside the roaring fire. “Hurry up and get comfortable, we’re here to have fun and forget that soon Steve and Bucky won’t have time for us anymore.”

Clint rolled his eyes and flipped him off with a grin, Steve and Bucky snagging the pair of deck chairs that weren’t occupied yet but obviously meant for them as they were the only ones nestled side by side.

Quirking up a brow, Steve made sure Bucky was snug against him before turning to Lang. “How so?”

“Well it stands to reason, right? Once you both tie the knot and end your honeymoon, it’ll be work, and your kid and you’ll probably get a dog, then there’s bills- ”

“We do all that already, and maybe TJ is like a kid but he’s still my brother.”

Scott smiled at him fondly, nodding in agreement. “I hope all the best for all three of you, I really mean that. You’re all great, I’m happy it’s finally happening.”

Thor came along with the beer cooler in hand, Loki following close behind holding the hard stuff, at the tail end was Sam with a bottle of wine. Jack had been lounging out too, sitting quietly next to Scott’s opposite side and Brock tried not to directly look at him.

“Sam, you’re perfect.” Natasha called, holding up her empty wine glass and giving it a small insistent shake.

He chuckled, approaching her. “I know I am.”

Thor passed a beer Brock’s way and as he was taking in everything, the telltale signs of fatigue seeping into his body. It felt like emotionally he was just drained after dealing with Jack and the moments afterwards, he thought again about maybe seeing TJ and Pepper before turning in early, using the upcoming bachelor party as an excuse.

He supposed, though, that this could be something he could handle, especially after being alone or isolating himself close by while things were happening around him throughout the day. Seeing his friends all together for the first time in too long, joking and reminiscing, warming himself by a sturdy fire on the shore, it seemed like it would be just fine.

Jack’s laugh rang out and it was too close despite Scott being bodily between them with some space on top of that, his heart didn’t know better as it leaped in his chest and maybe he spoke too soon about everything.

Lucky was on his feet suddenly, chasing Thor around with a stick in his mouth and everyone was focused on that, Sam setting his phone to some music they could all enjoy and Brock finally gave in to steal a glance Jack’s way while he had the chance. He was busy watching the dog too and Brock let his eyes wander when Jack rested his beer against his stomach to lay back on the blanket. His shirt happened to ride up and it bore the tiniest amount of skin and muscle, though unfortunately enough to remind Brock of how intimate he was to that particular place on Jack’s body, so much so that he could still remember how surprisingly soft against his lips his skin was there. Brock turned his head away, looking toward the bonfire instead, face heating over how powerless against his thoughts he was.

“We should play a game.” Scott suddenly blurted out, as if he had just suddenly had the idea when everyone knew it was the main point of being out on the beach surrounded by alcohol and letting loose.

“If anything requires getting naked, I’m in.” Loki offered, mixing a drink for himself.

Sam swatted at his side. “You would. Shameless.”

“I’m not getting naked, I’m engaged!” Bucky said, feigning shock while he stabbed another marshmallow onto his stick. “Besides, I’m getting naked later with a one man audience.” His nose in the air. “No one else is invited.”

Steve smiled dumbly and wrapped his arm tighter around Bucky’s waist while Sam pretended to be tired of their antics despite the fond expression across his face. “You’re both disgusting.”

“Alright, fine then. You’re all no fun.” Loki settled. “What game were you thinking, Scott?”

Scott glanced up at the sky, thinking pensively. Bucky burning his marshmallows and staring at him expectantly. Natasha suggested that since there was music they could do limbo or tag while Steve tossed out red light, green light and only received groans back at him. Brock watched them in amusement, he picked up one of the sticks from the collected pile and decided to make a s’more since he was kinda on vacation. Thor squatted down next to him, a skewered concoction of fruit alternating with bits of marshmallow on his stick and Brock had to shake his head at how weird it looked.

Brock was content on toasting while Scott grabbed another beer before he dropped at the end of Steve’s deck chair to ask the couple something. Concentrating on pressing the two graham crackers together to sandwich the marshmallow and chocolate, he was a little surprised to see that Jack shifted into Scott’s place, reaching for his own stick.   


Jack looked over at his s’more and Brock couldn’t figure out what made him do it but immediately upon instinct he handed it to Jack, remembering the last time he complained about his fingers getting sticky.

“What- ” Jack looked over at him in confusion, accepting but at the same time pushing the snack back his way.

“S’fine.” Brock shrugged, dropping his arm when Jack finally took it with a small thank you.

After Brock put another marshmallow onto his stick to recreate the snack for himself, he realized that all eyes were on him. Bucky looked concerned, reworking what had happened in his mind and staring between Jack and Brock. Brock’s ears warmed and he looked down at his hands.

“I know a game.” Loki suddenly announced and Brock was more than grateful. “We could play Never Have I Ever.”

Clint burst out laughing, leaning back into the patio chair he had dragged down, staring wildly at Loki. It was like something out of their freshman year of college, where they would get a little too drunk and play ridiculous childish games sitting on the floor of their dorm.

“Every time you put all your fingers down you have to take a shot.” Brock offered up. He was unsure of if Loki did it to derail everyone looking his and Jack’s way or if he really wanted to play this, either way it was a distraction and a chorus of cheers rang out around him.

“Well, now you’ve made it interesting.” Bucky laughed, pulling a bottle of whiskey over and onto his lap while Steve held out a glass he had to have some.

“I suppose we need to get this set up.” Sam muttered, grinning as he tore open a bag of plastic cups and filled them up with vodka that was clearly more than a shot before starting to pass them around the circle.

Finishing his s’more, Brock wondered if eating it was now a bad idea, eyeing the vodka vaguely while his beer was mostly still full between his legs.

Thor nudged another shot his way and pointed past him, Brock turned towards Jack only to catch him staring again and he wondered how long he’d been doing that.

“You’re staring.” Jack whispered, something teasing and all too familiar in his tone.

Brock couldn’t help himself as he smiled, passing the shot over. “Like yer one to talk.”

Jack took it, looking away and back to Lucky battling with Clint for a bit of palm frond. It was as if he couldn’t handle more than a few seconds of looking at Brock, while Brock couldn’t handle looking away. When everyone was given their drinks, Clint came back to his spot and cleared his throat with a hand held up.

“Never have I ever..” He announced confidently. “Been engaged.”

Bucky and Steve both groaned, shaking their heads at his purposeful start and Clint just laughed, claiming it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Bucky gave him the finger and Steve dejectedly lowered one of his.

“Never have I ever,” Bucky narrowed his eyes, “Gone streaking.”

“That’s not how you play the game!” Clint cried out with widened eyes, but put a finger down anyways.

Brock and Jack looked at each other knowingly, both following his lead as did Thor and Natasha. Slowly Loki joined in after a jab of his brother’s elbow into his side while Steve’s frown widened and he did the same, glaring over at Sam because he  _ knew _ and his friend followed suit. Jack smirked, shaking his head as he stared at his shot resting beside him. Four more fingers, and they would be knocking those back. Brock could hardly wait.

“Buck, why’re you lyin’?” Brock demanded, four fingers still up.

Bucky’s brows shot into his hairline. “I’ve never! Granted, I almost did, a few times but unless skinny dipping counts as streaking, nope. Never done it.”

“Could do it now.” Loki suggested and everyone began to nod in approval, well aside from Steve.

With all the obvious plays and jabs back and forth, it wasn’t long until everyone had taken more than a few shots. Scott was nearly tipping over from his spot on the ground, and Brock was distantly thankful that he hadn’t taken up residence in one of the loungers.

“Never have I ever..” Sam snickered, red faced. “Had a crush on Bucky Barnes,”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Brock muttered to himself, lowering his final finger and reaching for his cup, this time containing whiskey.

Bucky bowled over with laughter, shooting a sexy little wink in his direction. Clint looked to Natasha, who silently looked back his way and they both lowered their own fingers down while trying their best to keep straight faces. The bottle was passed around the circle with Steve sighing loudly before he poured himself a shot to drink then came to land on Loki’s lap and reluctantly he lowered his last finger, taking a long and defiant swig from it and somehow managed to stare Scott down at the same time.

“That shit ain’t fair at all.” Brock wheezed as it burned down his throat. “Almost everyone had a crush on Buck. He was friends with the whole entire school body, of course you had to be thinkin’ about it.”

“He was also in bed with half the school body.” Steve threw in jokingly and Bucky punched him in the arm.

"_I have not_! We’ve been dating for forever, Steve!”

Brock laughed loudly, stretching out his legs.

The group fell into a lull, each racking their brains for more ideas. It grew harder the drunker they became, and Brock found it almost impossible to think of something he hadn’t done.

“I have one.” Natasha grinned sweetly, sprawled lazily along Clint’s lap.

Brock looked at her fondly, wondering what other horrible thoughts she had in her head to make them reveal things. They had already exposed Bucky for peeing out of a second story window (at Steve’s old house no less), Steve for breaking into a government building to release animals in some kind of protest, Clint for being in an orgy (not surprising though), Jack for knowing every word to an entire Beyonce album, and Brock for spending the majority of a blind date set up by Nat in the bathroom so close to hysterics because he couldn’t get past the guy’s terrible overbite and crowded teeth. He wasn’t superficial but it was just too much for him to deal with.

“Go ahead, Natasha.” Sam gestured at her with a swat of his hand. “Destroy us as you usually do.”

“Be gentle.” Jack said with a chuckle. “I still have a few secrets I’d like to keep as that, secrets.”

“Oh Jack.” Natasha sing-songed. “If you don’t let us know, then where’s the fun?”

“I just prefer not to embarrass myself further.”

Brock pulled his beer from his lips and laughed against his wrist, shoulders shaking as he stole a glance at Jack. Jack sat up straighter attempting to keep the idea that he had some terrible ones to hide, and his gaze held onto Brock’s for a few seconds too long. It was easier not to look away with the help of alcohol, apparently.

“We’ll see how that goes.” Natasha raised the bottle of vodka like a toast.

“Already dreading it.” Jack nodded, and Brock’s head fell back against the blanket as he laughed.

“Never have I ever, _ever_! In my whole life, ever,” Natasha warned, eliciting an understanding nod from the others that they really got that. She looked towards Steve and Bucky. “Have been in love with someone in this circle.”

“Hey! That’s not fair, look who you’re sitting on!” Scott quickly exclaimed, a round of agreeable boos going around.

Natasha turned her head fondly to Clint smiling up at her and he received a kiss for the immediate attention while one of his fingers folded down on his hand. “Clint and I have a very important relationship, he’s special to me but he knows I need more time to figure it all out.”

“Boo, cheating.” Sam groused as he threw some popcorn at the couple but clearly was happy they got that far. Brock agreed as did everyone else, it was definitely cheating. They all knew she loved him since she’d known him.

Steve and Bucky laughed, rolling their eyes at her then turned to each other, sharing a gentle kiss together. Brock watched as Bucky nuzzled against Steve’s face, placing a second soft kiss to his lips and tapping their noses together.

He sat silently for a moment, playing the words over and over in his head. Thor and Loki were cackling side by side, bickering over the last of the graham crackers, while Bucky and Steve were too wrapped up in each other to pay attention. Scott and Sam were trying to create some kind of marshmallow man effigy using the pretzel sticks instead of an actual stick and Lucky was trying his best to steal it from them both.

Without further consideration, Brock folded his thumb over his palm. He wasn’t interested in playing around anymore. Even to himself. Four fingers remained straight up on his hand and he stared at them contemplatively, eyes glazed over from the alcohol and a need to sleep.

The buzz of laughter became become muffled in the background as Brock flexed his fingers, counting them over and over again. He felt somewhat proud of himself, that he could come clean even if it wasn’t any kind of real discovery between himself or his friends. There was a soft noise beside him, between a gasp and a sigh and Brock turned, Jack was staring at his hand.

Brock sat frozen, caught in his own drunken mistake. Of course it was Jack sitting next to him, and of course he had to be dramatic and put a finger down when no one was paying attention, when the rest of the circle was too caught up in their own fun to take inventory.

Unable to breathe, Brock let his eyes wander to Jack. The other man had jerked his gaze away, staring straight ahead into the fire. His hand sat in his lap, and Brock squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. It was now or never, he told himself, and finally worked up the courage to look.

Jack’s elbow moved to rest on his knee, his hand held straight in the air. His attention had turned towards Clint and Natasha’s bickering, completely disregarding Brock next to him. Brock’s attention flickered to his hand, and felt his heart drop to his stomach.

Five fingers were raised on Jack’s hand, on proud display for each of the others to see. For Brock to see. It felt like it was all falling apart suddenly, like he couldn’t pull in a deep enough breath to fill his lungs. The ground needed to fall out from beneath him, and Brock felt his chest constrict tighter with every passing second.

And Jack.

Jack sat up perfectly straight, wide grin spread across his face, confidence exuding from him. Jack didn’t look at him, didn’t see the way he had ripped Brock’s heart out of his chest and thrown it into the fire before them.

Jack proved again and again that he never loved Brock, that the two years they spent together meant next to nothing to him, perhaps less. And all this time later, when Brock grasped much too tightly the protruding hope of a potential future between them, Jack proved countless times that nothing could ever make him love Brock.

Once more, he ran Natasha’s words to him in his head.  _ Too stupid to see that he’s loved back.  _ No, Brock decided. He was stupid enough to believe that Jack might have loved him in the first place.

“Brock?” Steve’s voice cut through his thoughts, clearly uncomfortable and as always, trying his best to change subjects before it turned bad. “It’s your turn, do you have anything?”

All eyes were on him, and he noticed the slight fade of enthusiasm around them all. Natasha was clearly deep in thought despite how drunk she probably was, and Brock felt the need to get away before everything packed away inside of him suddenly exploded outward. He didn’t want to unravel all over again because he didn’t know how to control the emotions swirling inside of him.

_ Never have I ever broken someone’s heart.   
_

_ Never have I ever walked out on someone without a second thought.   
_

_ Never have I ever laid beside someone that loved me so deeply it hurt. _

He cleared his throat. “Never ‘ave I ever been so scared of a horror movie that I covered up my mirrors and stayed up all night.” Brock offered with a false smile.

“That was  _ one _ time!” Clint protested, and the circle erupted into a myriad of arguments once again.

Brock felt Jack’s eyes on him. He didn’t bother looking back. He couldn’t.


	5. Confessions

Brock yawned as he made his way through the quiet house, the back of his hand wiping sweat from off his brow after a run alongside the early morning sunrise. It was decidedly the only way he could shake off his slight hangover from the fireside gathering last night. A bonus was getting time for himself, there were some decent footpaths and he really liked that his mind was actually clear for once as he ran along the beach. Besides, working out also gave anyone that noticed the wonderful illusion that he had his life together which, obviously he did not.

The night ended with their group collectively deciding to retire once their alcohol supply was depleted and ideas were running short, almost to the point of ridiculous. Brock couldn’t have been more happy as he helped pack things up and waited until everyone was heading up the stone stairs safely before he put the fire out. He’d bore witness to one too many falls that ended up with broken body parts and he’d rather not this time around. Back inside when he got there it was mostly quiet to keep the noise level down for Pepper and TJ already asleep and as he made his way down the hall towards the other end of the house for his room, he heard the sound of something like an argument coming from the basement area. It was mostly Nat he heard, her voice sharp and accusing, while the second voice was far too muffled and far away to make out. He stood nearby trying to figure it out but it was too late, Natasha came storming up the steps before pausing at the top of it and noticing his presence. She gave him a smile as she walked over, reaching to give his arm a squeeze with no explanation, just a simple goodnight and then left for her bedroom.  


He only realized who it was she was arguing with when Brock went into the kitchen to help himself to some water and Jack emerged from the basement. Their eyes met and Jack suddenly looked guilty, quickly turning away and headed somewhere in the opposite direction, head tucked down and his hands shoved into his pockets. Once Brock was in his bedroom, he clutched at his pillow for dear life, trying his damndest not to break down despite how badly he was now shaking upon realizing no matter how much he was downplaying the game, everyone really saw it. He blamed it on the alcohol amplifying the rejection he felt from Jack, then whatever was going on downstairs. In the privacy of his own room his mind only made it worse as it once again brought up everything they could have been. He kept reminding himself over and over again that it was the booze making things worse as he tried his best to ignore all of it and get some sleep even though in reality, he was almost sober by the time he hit the mattress.

Coming back to the present, Brock made his way to the kitchen to grab his protein shake before hitting the weight room downstairs. He heard something clatter and it automatically caused his eyes to roll hoping Jack wasn’t in there again making breakfast by himself again. He knew Mama Frances and everyone weren’t in yet and TJ wasn’t either since he had run into Pepper and him down by water collecting shells and having a little breakfast picnic with one of house attendants. His mood suddenly dropped knowing if it was Jack, he’d have to tiptoe around him and pretend he didn’t exist which was something he really wasn’t expecting to deal with so early in the day.

He warred with the idea of going into the kitchen versus just heading to the weight room, eventually deciding that he had every right to be under the same roof as Jack was and the guy could take a flying fuck off if he didn’t like it. For extra insurance he put both earbuds back in just to send the message home he wasn’t interested in any sort of interaction with the man and stepped into the kitchen, shoulders straightened out and head held up high.

Staring directly ahead, he refused to even acknowledge Jack at the corner doing something on the floor. Opening the fridge he got his shake, grabbed one of the spare water bottles and slowly closed the door before he was about to leave in one seamless motion.

In a perfect world, he would have been able to walk away without the need to look. He wouldn’t have thought back to the morning before, when they worked quietly around each other and pretended they didn’t catch the other staring.

But Brock wasn’t as strong as he hoped he was.

Jack was actually sitting on the floor, hands pushed into his hair, head tucked forward. Brock was sure he hadn’t even noticed him walking in, didn’t seem like he noticed anything around him, a spoon on the floor for a cup of coffee that was still on the counter. Every panic alarm suddenly went off for Brock and he didn’t like it. He actually forgot about this part of Jack, hadn’t seen it in so long he thought it was something that he’d probably never experience ever again.

Removing both earbuds, he shoved it onto the table with his phone. Jack was almost solid still, faced completely ducked away but his ragged breathing was now filling the room, a soft tremble coming off his arms. Brock stared a long moment, his footsteps slowly approaching and memories of the first time he encountered one of Jack’s panic attacks came back hard and fast.

“Jack.” Brock whispered softly, his body carefully dropping down beside him. “Is it a bad one?”

Jack didn’t answer, his long legs only coming in tighter towards his chest like he was struggling at hiding himself completely from the world. He did it sometimes when he was a kid, when he was overwhelmed and his mind was racing too fast. He hid it so well when they became teenagers, Brock assumed it was gone back then too until he found him in the closet once, shaking so badly Brock was terrified for him.

His fingers twitched, itching so badly to reach out for Jack. He kept it against his thigh though, unsure if he should with how things were between them but he didn’t know if anyone would even understand how to calm him down. It was the last thing he expected to walk in on that morning for sure.

“Hey, Jack.” Brock whispered. “It’s Brock, m’here. Come on, talk to me.”

When they were dating, he barely saw it this bad, he could probably count it out on one hand, usually Brock could calm him down from it or not see it at all. Together he was good at compartmentalizing it well, shifting his energy to other things, he was  _ happier _ Brock liked to think. Even some of his friends said it and he all but preened at the fact that he helped Jack in that way. Unfortunately there were still times when it all became too much and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

Instincts came in quickly enough either way, he had to get Jack to talk, make him feel better and comfort him, remind him he was in a safe space no matter how many times Jack made it his job to be that for Brock in the past, _to hold him_. He was sure the last part wasn’t something he was equipped with doing even if he wanted to, so very badly, but the other stuff, he could help with that.

“Jacek.” Brock said gently, knowing it would get his attention faster than anything. “Ya need to settle down.”

“G-go away.” Jack snarled out as he lifted his head, he was glaring at him but Brock saw the desperation in his eyes.

It didn’t affect Brock like it had the first few times he was held witness to this, instead he only sat back on his heels to give him some more space. Jack’s head dropped forward again, the shaking becoming more evident as he attempted to breathe deeply. Brock knew he was skirting the edges of hyperventilating.

It was the last thing Brock wanted and he thought quickly, turning the electric kettle on to boil some water before jogging off towards the sitting area for one of the throws left over from last night bundled under his arm.  


He knelt down and unfurled the blanket before Jack. “C’mon, lean forward fer me, Jackie.”  


Jack’s eyes spied the blanket and he hastily shook his head. “I d-don’t want t-that. I don’t want your h-help. I d-don’t want you.”

Brock ignored the defensive stance Jack was taking, able to gloss away the hurtful words because of his concern and only waited patiently with the blanket held open. Finally, Jack gave in and leaned forward just enough for the blanket to drape around his shoulders. It was then that the kettle whistled and Brock got to his feet to fix Jack a soothing cup of peppermint tea despite how hot it was outside. He hoped it was still what he liked to have when he got like this.

Jack had his eyes tightly closed, though he was now gripping the blanket that covered him like a protective barrier. The shaking was no longer as bad as it was, but Brock doubted that it had truly died down at all since Jack was most likely converting it to internalizing as he did. That and the throw was probably doing a good job of covering it.

Brock stirred the tea and glared at it to brew faster. He waited until it had turned a golden green before he removed the spoon and placed it in the sink. Kneeling back down before Jack, he lightly prodded at him to lift his head up and at first Jack tried to push him away, tea almost spilling against clothing. Brock wasn’t giving up just yet though, no matter how much he wanted to respect Jack’s wishes and also answer that small, nagging, vindictive voice at the back of his mind that him to leave him there in his misery.

Finally, Jack gave up resisting and raised his head, blinking in confusion at the cup of tea that was presented to him, clearly unsure of what he was looking at for a moment. Brock nodded encouragingly and moved it forward a tiny bit more and slowly Jack took it, cradling the warmth in his hands as he kept studying at it.

“I hope ya still like peppermint tea.” Brock quietly offered. “I mean, it’s what I remember.”

Jack blinked slowly, watching the drink steadily even itself out. Brock was unsure of what he was trying to figure out but it was normal for him to be like this, his mind settling back to something normal.

“Y-yeah.” Jack nodded slowly, his voice hitching with his uneven breathing. “I still d-d- ” He huffed softly. “I still like it.”

“Alright. Yer okay ‘ere, ya know that, yeah?” Brock reminded him as the panicked expression seemed to slowly take over again in Jack’s eyes once more. “Jack, you listenin’? Yer fine.”

Jack shook his head, his body shuddering. It was worrying to watch, the way he was struggling to get a grip on his state, he loathed being so helpless and losing all the control he had, usually hiding most of his issues away until they forced themselves to show no matter how much he hated it. Brock wanted nothing more than to just help like he’d always done, to teach him how to breathe once again.

“Jack.” Brock pleaded softly, gently. “Gotta talk to me.”

Jack continued to shake his head, clutching to the mug of tea for dear life. A little of it spilled down his fingers, but it was like he didn’t even notice. Soaking in the warmth had helped years before, but Brock wondered if it was doing anything right then. Brock pulled a tea towel off the oven door and lightly dabbled at his fingers, soft red marks staining his skin.

“Please.” Brock whispered, getting the small bit of tea collecting at the end of the cup.

Raising his head, Jack met Brock’s gaze. His face was red and splotchy, and the rims of his eyes were red. The expression he wore threatened to spill tears at any moment, and Brock had only seen Jack cry once when he was like this. It was the moment he decided he’d never want to see it again and would do anything to stop that.

“I can’t do this.” Jack whispered. “It’s t-too much.”

“Can’t do what?” Brock prodded gently, unsure if he meant them co-existing or this whole trip.

“Ev-everything.” Jack admitted. “I need to go home.”

A shaky breath fell from his lips, like he hadn’t been able to admit it before, like he was so afraid of letting on that it was how he was feeling. Brock watched him sadly, knowing that Jack needed his space. It didn’t take away his desperate desire to pull him into his arms though, to console him in every way he could and tell him it was okay, that if it was that bad, no one would think differently of him.

“I d-don’t know why I accepted it head on, without thinking.” Jack shook his head. “I just felt h-happy that it was happening and I haven’t had much time the past year to do anything with my friends and I didn’t want to let S-steve and Bucky down but- ”

Jack’s bottom lip trembled, and his voice cut out abruptly. Brock saw how hard he was working to keep himself in control, but he was struggling so badly.

Brock remembered an anxiety attack so awful it left Jack in bed for an entire weekend. He could barely stay awake, and if he was up he was shivering beneath their whole collection of blankets. It was clear how much Jack never wanted to go through that again and how he fought badly against the threat of that happening once more.

“Hey, breathe.” Brock reminded him.

Jack was still on the verge of hyperventilating, eyes darting around the room wildly. Brock couldn’t stand to watch it anymore, and carefully took the mug of tea from Jack’s hands, sliding it onto the counter above them both. He laced their fingers together, squeezing tightly to draw him back.

“Focus on me, follow how I’m breathin’, yeah?” Brock instructed gently.

Jack watched him, following his breathing pattern the best he could. Brock counted in his head, remembering the sequence that had always worked best for Jack. They sat on the kitchen floor for five or so minutes before Jack’s crazed expression settled slightly.

“Okay?” Brock asked carefully.

Jack nodded, and Brock saw his mind working as he continued counting the seconds between breaths.

“Good.” Brock smiled carefully, trying not to let Jack see just how worried he was. “Keep talkin’. Tell me more.”

Jack’s eyes were slightly lidded, like he was trying to remember what they had been discussing in the first place. When he spoke again, his voice was shaking only slightly less, but Brock saw every little improvement as a win.

“I’m s-scared I’m disappointing everyone.” Jack whispered. “This is so far from home, I-I barely left my bakery in the p-p-,” He pressed his lips together in frustration and Brock gave his fingers a soft squeeze encouraging him to continue. “The past year. And now I’m here and worried about it. I’m anxious about not b- about not b-being there to make sure everything is f-f-, really going smooth. But if I leave early..n-no one’s going to ever me around again. I can’t let S-Steve and Bucky down, I told myself I needed the time off before burying myself into it all over again but w-what if this trip is ruining things back home?”

Jack was working himself back up again, and Brock gently tugged his hand to draw him back. Their eyes locked, like it was able to keep Jack where he needed to be and not off getting lost in his own head. Brock let his thumbs gingerly stroke his skin like he knew he liked before, how it relaxed him all that time ago.

“It’s s-so much work.” Jack sniffled. “But it’s always been my d-dream, I went through a lot for it..” Brock nodded in agreement with him. He knew how badly Jack wanted to open up his little shop and bake to his heart’s content. He was amazing at it too, he was always been Jack’s biggest supporter of the idea, well he used to be, he’s not sure nowadays. “I can’t leave though, I know that. I w-want them to be happy, me being here will assure that.”

Brock smiled gently. Jack, no matter what facade he put on for strangers to see on the streets or when they were younger, was always one of the kindest men he and their friends had ever known. He cared so deeply for the ones closest to him and now that one of his dreams came true, Brock was a hundred percent sure his customers could vouch for that kindness too.

“It’s Steve and Bucky, Jack.” Brock reminded him quietly. “They know ya wish them the world, know how it’s hard fer you to leave the safety of everythin’ ya know. We all know. Our priorities have always been to make sure all of us were okay, remember? That’s what friends are fer, we’d be pieces of shit if no one got that much.”

Jack offered a watery laugh, and Brock frowned at the forcefulness of it. He wished Jack knew that he didn’t have to pretend with him, that he’d accept him no matter what emotion he was feeling.

“You’re right, I know.” Jack breathed. “I j-just want it to be perfect for them, they deserve their happy ending. I feel like, with my absence..I owe it to them to be here too.”

Brock tilted his head sideways, watching Jack carefully. There was something else, another reason that he was so upset and stressed out over everything. Brock wondered what was going through that head of his to let himself get this bad.

“I’m a b-bad friend.” Jack whispered. “I know I am, I just disappoint everyone, e-especially TJ.”

Jack drew himself away, pulling his knees up again and hugging them. Brock frowned, trying to find the words to dispel the negative thoughts swirling within the other’s head.  


“Before we broke up, you were always my best friend, Jack. Well aside from Buck, but you were that little extra in a way he couldn’t be. No one’s ever been like that fer me except you.” Brock admitted softly.

Jack coughed, peeking up from his arms to stare back. There was wariness in his gaze, like he was trying to read Brock’s face and seeking if it really was the truth.

“I mean it.” Brock swallowed. “You were always there to talk me down from doin’ somethin’ wild and stupid, especially when my emotions were runnin’ high. Ya let me watch stupid reality TV and terrible action flicks. Ya made my favorite meals whenever I asked fer them or took me to Taco Bell without complainin’. Always took care of me when I was sick and made sure I was studyin’ fer my tests instead of gettin’ into yer pants- ”

Jack raised a brow at him and Brock shamelessly shrugged, it wasn’t really a secret between them how much Brock tried to at every chance he got.

Swallowing thickly as his emotions began gathering together, he smiled and hoped it didn’t look sad. “You believed in me, ain’t ever gonna forget that.”

_ That’s why I fell in love with you. _

A slight bitterness crept in and he pushed it down once more. As much as everything within him cried out to admit as much, he kept it close to his heart instead, not wanting to lose it.

“Yer a good friend, Jack.” Brock wrapped up. “And that’s comin’ from me, yer ex. Think of what everyone else must be feelin’.”

Jack laughed slightly and Brock noticed that crinkle in his eyes again that he adored whenever he’d really get him to smile.

“Thank you.” Jack whispered.

He still wasn’t fully himself and Brock doubted he would be anytime soon. It was something that always wore Jack out, but it seemed like overall he was going to be fine. Jack’s eyes trailed around the kitchen, as if he had no idea what to do with himself.

“Take a breather and relax, that’s why yer out ‘ere and not jus attendin’ the weddin’.” Brock murmured.

Jack let his eyes close like he was working up the energy to stand.

“Second thought, ya won’t be comfortable on the floor there once breakfast gets started fer everyone.” Brock realized.

“Brock, I- ” Jack started weakly.

“No.” Brock interrupted, he wasn’t going to let him wallow. He pulled himself up and then grabbed at Jack’s arm, a startled sound escaping. He was taller than him sure, but Brock could still haul him like a baby if he really wanted to.  


Without much effort he managed to lean most of Jack’s weight against his side and guide him to the living room, gently sitting him down on the couch before draping the throw blanket over his legs.

“I-I’m perfectly capable- ” Jack huffed, but Brock cut him off.

“Rollins.” Brock bit out in annoyance. “Will ya jus fuckin’ settle in and relax? You’ve probably been stressin’ over ‘ere since ya arrived and definitely workin’ yerself to death back in New York. Hell, Buck mentioned Wanda works there full time runnin’ the place? She ain’t an idiot, she knows how to do things right or you’d never ‘ave left her in charge in the first place. So please, put yer damn feet up on this nice couch over ‘ere and mope over ‘ow in a few days, you’ll haveta leave this paradise and go back to the real world. Yeah?”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, sitting up slightly and maybe sulking a little while Brock tried his best not to be amused about it. There was something in his eyes that Brock couldn’t read, but after a few tense moments of silence he finally gave up, lifted his feet up and reclined back.

“Whatever.” He grunted. Brock took it as a victory.

Now that the fire was out, Brock decided to give Jack some space and go find where his protein shake had gone to. He still needed that shower but he froze halfway, abruptly turning around to sit on the coffee table before the couch, getting Jack to open his eyes and turn his way.

“What?” Jack mumbled, eyes flickering from Brock’s eyes to his lips for half a second before they were back.

“Yer not dealin’ with all this alone anymore.” Brock assured him, solemn and serious. “Yer right, we can spend this time together mendin’ our friendship, yeah? So whatever ya need, I’m ‘ere, ready and available and I don’t wanna sound like some kinda fuckin’ therapist or nothin’ but I’d like to think that we know each other somes still like back when. If ya believe that, then ya know I’m ‘ere fer ya. Don’t deal with that shit alone, it’s only a few more days and then whatever ya usually do to cope will be back with ya but fer now? My door’s always open, no matter what, alright?”

Jack stared at him blankly, and Brock wished that he could just read how he was feeling.

“Hell, could even text me from yer room too.” Brock added with a shrug as an afterthought.

A small smile played at Jack’s lips, but he looked unsure. Brock wanted to promise him that he meant every word he said, that he wasn’t going to let him down because he was too important to him no matter what Jack thought about their relationship. Instead, he sat there for a moment before he gave a shaky nod and turned to go back to the kitchen.

When he peeked in on him a few minutes later, Jack was fast asleep on the couch. He covered him with a second throw blanket and set down a fresh new bottle of water for when he woke. He resisted the urge to brush a hand through his hair like he used to but watched him a few seconds longer than he usually would have before stepping away again.

*****

“Yay I love mini golf!” TJ cried excitedly and Clint stepped back, avoiding a chance at getting accidentally hit by the putter he was waving around in his hand.

“Easy there, TJ.”

Brock laughed as TJ paused, looking at Clint and then Bucky sheepishly. “Sorry, Clinty. I got too excited, I think.”

Steve smiled fondly at him in that way that made Brock happy he was there for him and Bucky both. He was a good guy, amazing to Bucky and in turn, was always just as good to his brother, like he always knew he was going to be taking up that role as secondary caretaker before he was even old enough to really understand what that really entailed. Brock could never get over that, but he was really pleased life turned out the way it did for them and that at least the three of them got a happy ending.

“Well come on then, get your score card and let’s start!” Scott prompted TJ with a gentle nudge of his hip and it kickstarted him moving while everyone watched in amusement.

They had come back to the main island of Nadi early after breakfast to do a bit of sight-seeing and then headed for the water park to spend a couple of hours so everyone could work off their hangovers at leisure without disappointing TJ’s requests to take him around.  


Plans were to do fun things with him during the day and then he’d go back with Pepper as she had informed them that while a night of drinking sounded fun, she couldn’t avoid doing some work on her laptop and get to some important emails. Plus since TJ needed someone to be around with him, it just worked out for the best. The rest of them booked hotel rooms overnight and then they’d be back on Turtle Island first thing in the morning to handle the wedding. The one thing Brock couldn’t shake off after they took the seaplane was the way Jack kept staring at him, especially when they were at the water park. He was glad he’d felt better to still come along but he was constantly feeling like he was stuck under his gaze and it was really confusing.

Together they made it to about four of their eighteen holes before their group was branching out, some playing faster and some taking their time; Bucky and Steve were going at TJ pace and just making sure he was having a good time.

Brock knew a lot of this was an attempt to make him comfortable before the honeymoon, it was hard enough work convincing them both to even take a month to get away, neither wanting to uproot TJ’s regular schedule back home or upset him with their absence. Fortunately Clint and Natasha were experts at taking care of him for long periods if need be and Brock signed up as standby in case TJ wanted to stay somewhere else for a couple of days, as was Scott and practically everyone else in their circle.

Thor and Loki were bickering at the eighth hole while Sam and Pepper were laughing about something while they waited for their turn at six. Brock, Jack, Scott, Clint and Natasha were all clustered around hole five and he lingered back slightly as he watched TJ softly tap his golf ball with Bucky’s direction straight into the awaiting hole, a look of sheer amazement across his bright face before his arms shot up and he jumped around excitement.

“I did it! I did it! Look everyone, I got the ball in!” A chorus of claps rang out from other visitors around them while TJ jumped about wildly. “Thank you for helping me, Bucky!”

Bucky wrapped his arms around his brother, celebrating with him and Brock had to chuckle. He felt a putter lightly hit the side of his shoe, turning his head to look at Jack staring at him with a raised brow.

“Going to watch them or play through?” He shrugged at Natasha and Clint at the side taking selfies together instead of wondering when it was their turn. “I don’t think they care.”

Brock supposed so as he lined up to go after Scott, who had been absently talking to himself like he was in some instructional video.

“It’s all about process and delivery.” Scott stated before taking a shot, only to miss with a very wide arc.

Jack boo’ed from behind him and Brock shook his head. “Tough luck, Lang. Ya need to follow yer own advice.”

“I guess so.” Scott laughed, taking a second swing to watch it roll into the hole. “Can you do better?”

Brock huffed at him in annoyance, and placed his own golf ball down. He positioned himself and swung his tee with a gentle strike only to watch it roll over the hole and past it.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath, making his way across the astroturf to softly nudge the ball in before stepping back for Jack to take his turn. He was grateful that at least Jack didn’t boo at him, though he was smirking like he wanted to and Brock watched as he lined up his own shot and sunk it in perfectly.

Scott sighed. “Why did I bet with you, Jack?” Brock watched him sulk away to the next hole.

“You’re better than before.” Jack complimented softly as he leaned down to retrieve his ball and Brock almost wondered if he imagined it. “I mean before when we’d play mini golf, you were getting angry at not getting a hole-in-one and you kept telling me I was a cheater.”

“You  _ are _ a cheater, if only that amusement center we kept givin’ our hard earned dollars to actually had cameras over their golf course, I’d have proof ya were.”

Jack laughed. “But to this day, you don’t have any. Just your word.”

Brock grunted in annoyance as Jack followed after Scott. His gaze trailed after his ex, lingering a bit longer than normal like back at the water park when he couldn’t help himself but ogle a tiny bit over how Jack still looked really good, especially when only wearing swim trunks. It didn’t help when the water would stick his shorts to his skin like plaster and he knew what was under there already which was only serving to be trouble. All in all though, Brock was mainly glad the panic attack didn’t cripple Jack to where he couldn’t enjoy a day out and no one was the wiser about why he’d been napping on the couch.

Just as Brock moved aside to go get Clint and Natasha, who’d been necking under some palms like teenagers, Jack turned around abruptly and pulled at his shirt. “Come on, slow ass.”

“But- !”

“Leave them, they know where to find us.” Jack murmured, so close to his ear that Brock felt his cheeks flush.

With one gentle push from Jack’s hand pressed to the small of his back, Brock turned to get some kind of idea of what Jack was playing at, only to be met with his eyes which had soaked in the blue from apparently somewhere and gave them a shade of aquamarine he couldn’t quite look away from. He forced himself to though, pretending to search for where TJ was before Jack dropped his hand and Brock’s world was stable again.

If this was how it was going to be the rest of the afternoon and into the night, he was definitely going to start drinking as soon as he had a chance to.

*****

“A male strip club..” Bucky deadpanned, staring between Brock and Natasha.

Brock opened his mouth to say he had no part in it, despite Natasha’s knowing smirk already saying it was completely her idea.

“I didn’t even know Fiji had male strip clubs.” Scott mumbled in awe.

Clint wiggled in between him and Sam, draping an arm around both of their shoulders. “There’s only one but super positive in reviews.”

“Plus, you two are dorks for wanting to do your bachelor party together, so much for being traditional and then bombing at it.” Sam reminded Bucky, his face was still unsure but he was willing to back up the idea.

“We’ve been over this.” Steve groaned out. “We just wanted all of our friends together- ”

“It’s because they don’t have enough friends to have two separate parties, obviously.” Clint interrupted with a smirk.

Steve scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head while Bucky laughed, hugging Steve’s arm and burying his face into his fiance’s shoulder. Steve was trying his best not to react, lightly tickling him in retaliation and getting a squawk of protest.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” He whined with a fake pout.

“Be nice to my husband or I’ll cut all of you.” Bucky threatened with a narrowing of his eyes. He soon turned back to Steve with a grin. “Is that what you wanted, my sweet?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but pulled him in for a kiss anyways. Brock pretended to be tired of their PDA, groaning loudly as he crossed his arms and Loki sympathetically rubbed his back. He appreciated the gesture. TJ had gone with Pepper and everyone else that had come into town to do a vague rehearsal dinner that was more or less just a loud gathering at a restaurant instead of any actual work being prepared for tomorrow. The wedding was definitely going to either be hit or miss and for those two, it was probably the best outcome to hope for no matter how it went.  


It was officially time to get wasted though, and none too soon.

They’d managed to fit the ten of them left into two cabs and everyone spilled onto the curb once they pulled up at the club. Sam ignored all protests to chip in for the trip and paid off the two smiling drivers before they were off again, it reminded Brock to make sure he had enough cash on hand for the night.

“Stop worrying, you’re fine.” Jack teasingly whispered as he slipped in beside him leaning in close. “Still making sure you’re good with cash despite having multiple ways to get out of a problem? I see that hasn’t changed.”

“Hey, it’s better than bein’ stuck somewhere like you did that one time.” Brock shot back defensively.

Jack smiled, glancing at the building before them and eyeing the neon lighting across the signage. “Technically I lost my wallet so I did have money, I wasn’t unprepared. You’re the one who forgot the Tool tickets in your wallet, which was back home while we’re standing in front of the arena.”

“Fuck off!” Brock laughed, nudging him with his shoulder. “We still got in, didn’t we?”

Jack shifted slightly and tried to hide the smile forming on his lips. Still, Brock didn’t miss it, his heart swelling in happiness over putting him in that place and encouraged once more by how he was feeling better after the morning. With all the excitement of keeping TJ entertained, then basically all the extra people invited to the dinner that were staying nearby, Brock worried it may cause to be too much for Jack and he’d end up leaving with TJ and Pepper once it had all wrapped up.

“Thanks for helping me out in the morning.” Jack murmured quietly close to his ear. “It..” He drew in a small shaky breath. “It made everything a lot better, helped me think straight.”

Brock nodded, trying his best not to bring up too much emotion and keep his face as casual as possible. He didn’t want to make Jack regret saying anything, turning his way. “Don’t be stupid, ya had it. Jus needed a small nudge, that’s all.”

“Still,” Jack insisted, turning back towards their friends. “It was comforting knowing you knew exactly what to do to get me out of that headspace.”

Brock let out a small laugh, giddy and light, feeling the warmth of Jack’s words spread through his chest. He blamed it on the small bit of champagne and wine they’d broken out during dinner. It was barely anything and shouldn’t have affected him in anyway but here he was. Jack looked at him briefly, boyish and happy like all those years before, a secret glance between the two of them that Brock loved being accustomed to.

Brock almost leaned in to kiss him.

“Hey jerks.” Natasha called from the line they were gathering into. “You two coming with us or what? I’d appreciate we don’t lose track of each other while in another country, if you don’t mind.”

Jack’s face flushed slightly, and he threw a quick nod her way as he stepped forward to follow Natasha. Brock fell in line with him, instinct telling him to take Jack’s hand like he always did before but he restrained himself, reminding him once again that this wasn’t how they were supposed to go. They weren’t dating and in love anymore.

“You should give ‘er our wallets and get lost, see how we cope. I wanna see how ya felt with my own eyes.”

“Fuck off.” Jack said in the exact way Brock had told him earlier, but Brock only grinned wider.

Once inside the club. they found it loud, hot and insanely busy. Luckily they had managed to call ahead for one of the VIP booths, partially curtained to add a depth of privacy for your entourage or possibly a few good lap dances. Steve and Bucky were already sliding against the smooth leather, more focused on each other than anything else. Natasha had immediately begun directing a waiter their way with a tray of shots and Loki was excitedly rubbing his hands when another man came over with champagne in a bucket of ice.

Brock slipped into the booth finding it a tight fit for all of them as he shifted down until he was beside Clint. Jack followed him immediately after, nearly cutting Sam off in the process, whose brows furrowed slightly before his and Brock’s eyes met and gave him a questioning look. All Brock could do was struggle at hiding the huge smile across his face since there was nothing to really be said, it wasn’t like he knew what Jack was up to.

“Here!” Scott shouted over the music as he passed Clint a backpack Brock had missed seeing and he still wished he didn’t when Clint was unzipping it only to pull out stupid trucker hats with ‘Groom’s Drinking Team’ on them, passing them around. Natasha took one happily and pulled it on, while Bucky and Steve received two that just simply had ‘Groom’ over the front in different colored texts, one red and the other blue. Bucky shrugged as he pulled his on while Steve stared at him with questioning brows.

“Come on, Rogers.” Sam hollered, pulling his on with pride which only told Brock that he was in on the idea. Another detail he had no idea about, though in hindsight he was kind of glad Sam and Nat were helping him with the fun. “Have fun with it!”

Thor was also excitedly pulling his on like everyone else, Loki taking a little bit of time warming up to it before he did as well.

“These are ugly.” Brock said with a look of disdain. He turned to Jack laughing at it before graciously pulling it on and Brock lost his mind.

“You fuckin’ look terrible!”

Sam was in stitches, bowling over into Jack who draped his arm around the back end of the booth behind Brock’s head to keep himself from falling into him and quickly the laughter died in Brock, shaking his head as he took one of the beers being passed around. He really had to get out of his head.

“I think I look fine.” Jack replied, pulling his phone out to take a selfie with Sam who flashed a peace sign like he was a teenage school girl.  


Loki stared at him pointedly and Brock raised his brows, eyeing the hat again before he begrudgingly pulled it on and felt bad for his hair. Somehow through Sam’s laughter into Jack’s other side and his shoving match with Thor that was rippling into Brock, Jack’s arm ended up falling against his shoulders and never moved. Like being stared down by a wild animal, Brock kept himself as still as he could because of it, easing up just enough so Jack didn’t feel how tense he was inside and sipping on his beer casually like nothing was wrong.

Clint looked pleased by everyone’s reactions, turning to wave down a server so he could order another round of shots for the table.

“How drunk are you trying to get us?” Steve wondered with a raise of his beer tapping against Bucky’s. “I’m getting married tomorrow you know.”

“In the afternoon, you killjoy!” Natasha said as she jabbed at the side of Steve that wasn’t draped with Bucky.

Steve lightly swatted at her arm, but quietly drank his beer while watching the server head for the bar. It didn’t take long for Bucky to get antsy in their booth before he was scooting to get out and pulling Steve as well as Natasha with him so they could go dance on the lit up floor near the side of the main stage.  


“Don’t get too comfortable here! We’re hitting some bars after this!” Natasha reminded them with a shout despite going willingly with the both of them.

Steve gave her a quick nod before his arm was going around Bucky’s waist and he was pressing a kiss against his neck, a distraction before his hand went down to grab at his ass. Natasha rolled her eyes, tugging Bucky further into the crowd.

Brock wondered what the real point of a dance floor was when there were half naked men all over the place, wasn’t that the purpose? To look at them? He shook his head, not wanting to delve any deeper about it as he watched them getting into the music.

The next hour flew by with Brock mostly staying put as was Jack, oddly enough, cheering on and watching Scott, Clint and Thor get lap dances and slip way too many singles into some really revealing g-strings. Loki seemed to have disappeared with one of the strippers that caught his eye and no one wanted to know what _ that _ was about, while Sam took a few dances offered to him from charming men and really just enjoyed himself. That was until he began to pull Jack out of the booth; Bucky, Steve and Natasha flanking from the other side to get Brock out.

“Come on!”

With the addition to them and then the rest of their group, they were definitely spilling out of the designated area, other guests wanting to join in the energy and soon a bigger bachelorette party jumped in with them while everyone was dancing to _I’m Too Sexy_.

“We’re going to get kicked out.” Jack laughed loudly over the booming music, watching Clint and Natasha holding hands as they climbed atop one of the occupied tables to dance. From God knows where, Clint had gotten a feather boa and was lassoing it around Natasha’s waist to keep her close like they were in their own little world.

“What’s new?” Brock shrugged, one of the girls from the bachelorette party snagging him by the hip to pull him in their way and Brock went with it, grinning and feeling way too loose and happy.

He saw the way Jack’s face shifted to one of surprise, Sam draping an arm around him and laughing about something before Brock pressed the stranger towards another patron and they were all dancing together.  


Sam spun a little too hard and scrambled a bit at the end and Brock went to grab him so he didn’t land on the ground, but it ended up throwing his weight off, feeling Jack immediately reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“You’re going to get yourself knocked out.” Jack hissed in his ear, not angry.

“This ain’t anythin’.” Brock assured him and Jack snickered.

“Oh it isn’t?” He asked, emphasising with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Brock felt like his shoulder was burning from where Jack touched him. He so desperately wanted to reach out and hold on, spend every last second of the time they had left wrapped up in one another like they used to do, make up for the years they missed. Instead, he let Jack’s hand fall as he once again stepped back from him.

“Much worse ‘as ‘appened.” Brock mumbled, hoping the music buried away the admission.

Jack looked at him curiously, like he was trying to decipher Brock’s words. In the end, he only offered a small laugh that clearly looked uncomfortable and checked behind his shoulder for the others. Clint and Natasha were already being rounded up by the bouncers, and someone that looked very much like a manager but angry, was very rapidly heading in their direction.

“Best be getting out of here.” Jack said, gesturing his head with a tilt towards oncoming company.

Clint reached out for them, yelling something swallowed away by the music. Brock bit back a smile and surrendered without needing to be forced, hands held up as he following the crowd out the back exit to the alley where they had been ejected.

Scott was cheering, arms raised above his head hollering out in excitement. Brock wouldn’t have been surprised if the police showed up, though he was very glad they didn’t. Thor laughed alongside him, apparently still holding a mug of beer and he knocked what was left in one quick swig before placing the glass on the chair sitting close to the door.

“What a great start!”

Clint was propped between Natasha and Sam, the pair of them leading him away from the door. Steve and Bucky had their arms around one another as they already began walking, leading the group through the streets. Clearly Natasha had already shared where they were going next, Brock had already forgotten.

Beside him, Jack’s eyes darted anxiously around the street, subtle but Brock knew it enough. He’d never been the best in situations outside of his comfort zones, where there was no stable plan guiding him through life. Brock remembered how he tolerated crowds but they annoyed him; it was the same with being lost, keeping track of how much he was drinking, an eye on the time, if he felt that kind of control on himself slipping away then he would be at the frays of panic.

Maybe he drank too much already, it was enough that he obviously managed to block his instincts and Brock reached out to take Jack’s hand in his own. Jack’s immediate worrying stopped, turning his head Brock’s way sharply, his hand limp. Brock looked back at him with that small sympathetic and knowing gaze Jack already should have known, offering a small smile of reassurance.

Slowly Brock felt Jack’s hand tighten around his, their fingers tangled together like that morning, fitting perfectly. Their arms were loose and comfortable between them and Jack licked his lips as he looked up towards their party, most of them already at the main street before the two of them even began to walk.

When they did make it out, everyone was too drunk or too distracted with each other to notice anything was up. Jack had relaxed exponentially with every step they took and the longer they walked for the next bar, the closer they drifted together, like it was how they were always supposed to be.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Jack asked quietly.

“The Tiki Room.” Brock said low, remembering when he really tried to. “Natasha said it’s supposed to be real fun and casual, probably won’t get kicked out like the last one.”

Jack chuckled at that, their arms swinging casually between them as they walked together. Brock let Jack do whatever he pleased with his hand, and kept track of the little squeezes that occurred when Jack was feeling particularly nervous, or the way his fingers tangled up tighter around his in security.

“You know, there’s no reason to be going on like this.” Jack pointed out, gesturing to their hands. “It’s not like I could get lost. It’s not hard to keep track of all the off-key singing going on from Scott and Clint, even from a few streets ahead.”

Brock snickered, nodding in agreement. Still, Jack didn’t make a move to drop their hands. Brock caught himself smiling without realizing it, surrounded by the warm salty air and a tiny breeze on a tropical island with Jack holding his hands like nothing had changed at all. His cheeks heated a little bit over it and he blamed it on the alcohol.

When they approached the bar, Brock felt his heart drop. The moment they drew closer to the others, just seconds from stepping inside, Jack pulled his hand away. Brock felt an ache he should have seen coming, Jack’s desire not to be seen by the others was stupidly clear now. He treated the two of them holding hands on the street like it was a bad idea, Brock realized, something he regretted and couldn’t deal with being called out on.

Brock couldn’t help ducking his head down, steering immediately to the front of the bar while Jack was about to turn to the left where their friends had gone. He barely caught the surprised look on Jack’s face, like he had expected him to follow behind. Brock ignored it, the bartender catching his eye and approaching his way to meet him, he was in real dire need to get wasted.

Despite being a crazy drinker back in high school and especially in college, he was nothing like that nowadays. It was more an occasional glass or two of wine while unwinding than anything, or social situations with friends.

However, right there in the present, Brock really wasn’t in the mood to care. All he really wanted was to numb out the pain he was feeling in his chest, the one that burrowed deeper the longer he stayed around Jack.  


He started with a beer and a couple drinks on ice to get the ball rolling, joining the group when they managed to get custody of the pool table and within a few hours of shots with Clint he was practically falling against the bar. On the plus side, this time around there was a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from crumbling to his knees despite how much his mind was telling him he wanted to do that.

“Jackie..” Brock grinned when he saw who it was, patting his arm. “Hello Jackie’s arm, yer damn strong!”

Brock burst out laughing, tipping forward and hugging his stomach like he had made the funniest joke of the century. Clint snorted next to him, perched on a bar stool and Jack looked surprisingly amused, watching him closely. When drunk, it felt easier to joke with him. He liked it a lot more.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.” Jack commented with a smirk.

Brock grinned as he gazed at Jack, head dropping to one side. He was only upright because of Jack supporting him, his hand still patting at his ex’s arm absently. There was something in the way Jack was staring at him though, something Brock couldn’t distinguish, no matter how hard he concentrated over it.

“This drink is so fuckin’ amazin’, Jackie. I’m tellin’ ya!” He held a pink concoction towards Jack eagerly. “Ya wanna try it?”

Jack stared at him for a long moment and Brock tried his best to look as sad as he could, hoping that Jack would accept and finally he did, sighing a little as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the straw to taste it. Brock couldn’t help but hyperfocus on that mouth, exhaling softly.

“Ya like it?”

Jack straightened up and nodded, giving him a gentle smile. “I do. It’s really nice, sweet though.”

“Like you.” Brock informed and took a sip from the straw. He wasn’t sure if Jack was coughing because of him or if it was just a lucky cue but he grinned anyway, startled with a small shout at the sudden grab of his shoulder by Clint.  


Jack tried stifling a laugh and Brock felt him tighten the grip he had on him.

“Hey!” Brock complained, turning back to Jack after giving Clint an angry squint for scaring him. “Quit laughin’! You ain’t allowed when ya look so damn amazin’ doin’ it!”

Jack paused but grinned at him, his brows going up slightly and Brock only smiled just as wide, reaching out to pat his cheek. “Jackie, yer alright.”

“Yeah, okay Brock. You’re getting weird.” Clint said with a laugh. “Are you ready to head on outta here to the next place?”

Brock hiccuped, raising his glass and he felt his straw stab him in the cheek a couple of times before it finally went in his mouth, his fist partially pumping upwards into the air. “Let’s go, m’ready!”  


The rest of the group wasn’t with them yet and Brock leaned against Jack a little as he tried to take a small step towards the doors. The room was spinning a little too much for his liking and he swallowed the last of his drink before slamming it down on the bar and turning into Jack’s chest, his head falling against his shoulder.  


Right now would have been a good moment to take a power nap and that’s all Brock wanted, at least until they were ready to all move together. He closed his eyes and pressed a palm against the middle of Jack’s chest, familiar and warm. He was sure it was Jack softly rubbing his back for him and he appreciated it, making a vague mental note to thank him about it later.

“I should probably take him back to the hotel.” He heard Jack say by his ear as he fought to make the spinning behind his eyelids stop.

“Are you sure, Jack?”

That was Natasha’s voice and Brock smiled sleepily against the soft fabric of Jack’s shirt.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty fluent in drunk Brock, just need a cab and I’m good, I have the hotel’s address in my wallet.”

“Yeah, I already see a couple cabs waiting out front. Whenever you’re good to go, take him.”

“Poor Brock!” Bucky shouted, much too close to his ear and Brock blindly swatted at him to get back. “Get some rest you loser, need you at the wedding!”

“Fuck- ” Brock wanted to finish his sentence but he just swatted the air again and let his arm drop to his side.

When Jack shifted to press him to his side and guide him out, Brock let his eyes open, gazing at Jack’s profile with a dreamy sigh. “Hi.”

Jack’s mouth twitched upward. “Hey Brock.” He pushed open the doors and the air was so much more muggier outside. “We’re going back to the hotel, time for bed.”

“Are ya gonna sleep over?”

Jack smiled at him, it was sweet and fond. “You need rest, you won’t sleep if I’m there.”

He felt Jack prop him up against the side of the taxi as he opened the back door while he pouted a little. “Maybe. Ya don’t know fer sure though.”

“True.” He agreed, pressing a hand against his shoulder to get him to duck down and climb in, following after him when he was in. It was like when they were in college and bar hopping. Jack would always drink a little but he was usually the one keeping track of him, the one who made sure he got home safe and Brock assumed it was going to be like that forever. At least, for today, it wasn’t the end of that tradition.

As the cab began to drive along the street, Brock easily settled against his seat and watched all the buildings and street lights pass them by outside the window.

It wasn’t long before his eyes were heavy again, too tired to fight about it as they closed. His head fell forward a little and slowly it went to the side, bouncing a little with any bump they came across as he tried his best to keep his head up again before it dipped down again. Eventually Jack apparently had enough, reaching out to bring Brock’s head down against his shoulder, arm draping around his back to keep him secure there.

“Mm nice.” Brock drawled, blissfully happy as he rubbed his cheek against the soft shirt again.  


Jack laughed and Brock could feel it, snuggling in a bit closer. “Thanks. I pride myself in being a comfortable pillow.” Brock felt Jack’s lips brushing into his hair with every word he spoke.

“S’like college, when you’d protect me from doin’ anythin’ stupid.” Brock mumbled, nuzzling against the fabric again.

Jack quietly hummed in agreement, lifting a hand to slowly stroke Brock’s hair. With every touch he received, he felt the emotions he had been attempting to stifle rise up from his chest. Brock wanted so badly to tell him everything, admit his feelings for Jack and let it all out.

“I love you.” He murmured low, words muffled with his lips pressed into the material of his shirt, his hand blindingly seeking purchase before he felt Jack hold his wrist gently, soon cupping the back of his as if he was settling it.

“What did you just say? You’re mumbling into my shirt.” Jack asked, tone genuinely curious, maybe a little amused. “Always muttering incoherent things when you’re drunk, Rums. I see that hasn’t changed.”

Brock felt the tears coming in hard at the sound of his old nickname, the one Jack stopped calling him when they started dating but the one he’d always use when they were best friends growing up. The one Jack didn’t like anyone else to use because it was his. Brock wished he still was.  


He exhaled into Jack’s offered shoulder, knowing him not hearing those three important words were a sign, that maybe he shouldn’t. They were trying to rebuild from the ground up and hopefully get back to something they could salvage into a worthy and close friendship again. Brock couldn’t be selfish and destroy everything just because Jack obviously didn’t feel the same. He just couldn’t.

“So fuckin’ tired.” Brock whined, coughing a little to distract from the emotions playing havoc with his heart.

“Yeah, no kidding.” Jack’s palm softly drifted across Brock’s back in light gentle stokes. “You knocked back everything you could get your hands on, if Clint and I didn’t keep an eye on you, you’d probably need to go to the hospital, idiot.”

“Y-you were watchin’ me?” Brock asked, astonished. He wanted to look up at Jack, stare into his eyes for confirmation but he couldn’t, not with the way his tears were still threatening to spill.  


“Of course I was.” Jack admitted, like it was something silly to ask. “I like Clint, but if he was left to watch you, you’d both be in the hospital. I know what you can handle, not him.”

That warmth came back inside of Brock once more and he laughed against him, clutching Jack a little tighter. The car soon stopped in front of the hotel and Jack helped him out of the taxi every step of the way. They walked together, Jack’s arm securely wrapped around his middle while Brock leaned against him despite the fact that he could have probably gone through the lobby and into the elevator all on his own if he was careful enough.

In the elevator Brock leaned against the mirrored glass, draping his arms against the gold railing protecting it, head tilted back. “I ain’t nothin’ like when we were in college. I bet it ain’t even past midnight. When did I turn into some kinda old biddy, Jack?”

Jack laughed, soft and gentle; Brock allowed it to soak into the marrow of his bones knowing he was staring while Brock focused on the ceiling.

“Makes two of us.”

Brock finally looked his way when the elevator chimed for their floor and Jack put his arm out. Instead of doing the right thing and letting Jack see he was fine to move on his own volition, Brock stepped into it and let him lead again, dipping his hand into his pocket for his room keycard and offering it to Jack silently.

Inside his room, Jack softly guided him with a gentle push against the small of his back and suddenly Brock wasn’t ready to lose this time, not yet, turning around with a slight twist and a look over his shoulder. His hand came out in an offer but he wouldn’t force anything on Jack.

Jack peered at the offered hand, raising his gaze back up to his face. “You want me to stay?”

Brock shrugged, then gave him a nod and a little smile. Jack reached out and took his hand before hitting the lights to illuminate the room, closing the door. Jack stepped closer to lead him, practically pressed to his back and Brock tried his best not to respond, the grip on his hand firm as they both dropped down on the bed together, sitting side by side.

Reluctantly Brock was the first to let go, he didn’t want to push for anything more and Jack only smiled at him. After kicking off their shoes, they both scooted backwards, sitting against the mess of propped pillows lined along the headboard the way Brock liked. The TV was switched on but neither were really watching, more interested in just talking about nothing and everything at once.

They continued to joke around, to make fun of each other, to reminisce about their first months of when they lived together and learned the good and bad sides of adulthood. Brock felt nostalgic, both of them laughing until they couldn’t breathe and it was nice, wiping stray tears from the corners of his eyes that weren’t out of sadness when he had to and it seemed like Jack had the same problem.

He felt comfortable, as if they were still at their place; It was like the two of them had never stopped talking, never had their blow up, like the last two years never even existed. The only thing Brock was certain about in his drunken state was that he wasn’t ready to give this up again, he couldn’t lose Jack.

“M’sorry ‘bout makin’ ya take me back and missin’ the rest of the celebrations.” Brock said, hoping Jack heard it in his voice how apologetic he was, his hands nervously rubbing along the seams of his trousers.

Jack shifted onto his side, propping his head up with his elbow. He looked at Brock, his eyes searching for something, maybe trying to see if he meant it and Brock only stared back at him, hoping he understood. A moment later Jack huffed out a short laugh and shook his head at him.

“I thought you knew me better than that.” He allowed himself to fall back against the mattress. “I’d rather be here with you.”

Brock didn’t realize he had started to cry until he felt a tear fall against the back of his hand. Hurriedly he wiped them away, cursing the alcohol for the way he felt so vulnerable right then. He hoped against all odds that Jack didn’t notice anything.

Jack wasn’t like that though, he was always good at picking up stuff about him when he was trying to hide it. He rolled onto his stomach, pushing himself up and onto his knees to get a better look at him. Brock tried to turn his head away, holding his breath to prevent the sobs that threatened to escape.

“Brock?” Jack asked carefully, reaching out as if to touch his face. “Hey, what’s going on? Why are you upset?”

Brock hastily shook his head, trying to force out a shaky laugh instead. He attempted to play it off, make it seem like the booze was fucking with him, whatever worked to get him off his tail, but then Jack gingerly brushed the back of his fingers along one side of his cheek, swiping away at tears and it tore something open in him and Brock couldn’t stop himself.

“Hey.” Jack whispered softly. “Talk to me, Brock.”

Brock reached up, twitchy fingers hesitating slightly before they slid over Jack’s hand. He wished Jack could read him perfectly right then, could decipher all the things running through his mind and pick up on what he was struggling to say out loud. In a way, he’s a little bit taken aback over how he hadn’t been found out yet really.

“After these past couple years, ya still seem to know how to make everythin’ better without even tryin’.” Brock murmured.

Jack pulled back slightly, like the realization was settling in and things were falling into place for him. Brock drew in a small breath, a twinge of pain pulling deep inside of him as his heart sank at the obvious shift in Jack’s mood. He watched as Jack’s gaze moved around the room, he shifted and processed like he was calculating a way out and avoiding Brock entirely.

“Don’t say that.” Jack firmly ordered.

“Say what?” Brock forced out, his brows knitting together like he had no idea what Jack was talking about, only to have him pull his hand away entirely with a sharp glare.

They sat up and stared at each other in silence for a long drawn-out moment and quickly Jack shifted his gaze to the wall behind him as Brock tried to read the stoic expression Jack was bearing. His brain scrambled for excuses, for things to say to make up for the mistake, but the more he tried to salvage the evening, the less he wanted to fix things. The urge to speak up began to make him feel restless and he hated it.

“I still love you, I..I never stopped.” Brock admitted quietly, voice shaking slightly.

“Brock.” Jack warned. “_Stop_.”

Brock shook his head, sitting up a bit straighter as a new push of confidence took over. The room was still spinning slightly, and he briefly wondered if he was seconds from puking on the floor and should probably shut up. But no, this is what he’d been holding back for far too long since they arrived here and he had to say his peace if it was the last thing he did with Jack.

“Ya need to know.” Brock continued on. “It ain’t fair for either of us if I jus keep dancin’ around the fact that I still love- ”

“You  _ never _ l-loved me to begin with, Brock. Y-you told me so, remember?” Jack reminded him sharply, cutting him off. “So stop t-talking, you’re fucking drunk.”

He sat there stunned, shocked that Jack always believed that between them, that Brock truly didn’t care about him at all. How could he even tempt the idea? He stared at Jack as he was looking at the carpet, glaring at it like it had done him some sort of grievance and refused to look his way. He wasn’t at arms reach anymore and Brock had no idea when he moved such a distance away from him.

“I did love ya back then, when we were together.” Brock croaked out, unhappy and those tears pressed to fall once again. “I _ do _ love ya.”

The words lingered between them, tension thick and it made it almost hard to breathe for Brock. Jack’s hands were formed into fists, pressed into the blanket and he was clearly trying not to be angry, Brock knew but Jack was also shaking his head slightly, he knew it wasn’t that easy to control.

“Well, it w-wasn’t like that for me.” Jack seethed, shiny mossy dark eyes eyeing him balefully before looking away again. “I never d-did.”

The tears that Brock tried to hold down filled his eyes and he tried his best to properly process Jack’s words. No matter how many times he ran it through, he still couldn’t believe it. No matter what was just said, he’d seen the way Jack looked at him, treated him, how he doted on him all that time. There was no way he was imagining all of that, Jack had felt something just as strongly as he did.

“Why? Why are ya doin’ this, Jack?” Brock begged for an answer. “Why’re ya lyin’ to me?”

Jack scoffed in frustration, shaking his head as he finally got to his feet. Brock leaned out, tried to reach for him and Jack only smacked his hand away. Recoiling, Brock watched the man he considered to be the love of his life walk towards the door. It hurt no less than the last time.

Jack’s hand fit around the doorknob, but he didn’t turn it immediately. His back was facing Brock, tense as his shoulders bunched together, and the picture before him was so familiar that Brock couldn’t stop himself from letting those tears run down his cheeks. Watching the past repeat itself, he felt so helpless and it was an emotion only Jack managed to evoke from him.

“Jack,” He implored. “Please, jus- ”

“Brock.” Jack interrupted without turning his head. “Y-you’re drunk and you’re embarrassing yourself. Get s-some sleep.”

“I mean it, Jackie.” Brock said miserably. “I love you.”

Jack stayed there at the door not doing anything, and for half second Brock thought he might turn around and come back to him. Perhaps it could be a do-over, a chance they didn’t get the first time, where Brock was honest and Jack didn’t leave.

He thought about how they loved to keep some sort of physical touch between them, how they slept holding each other. Sleepy mornings where they woke each other up and had breakfast while their feet tangled were together under the table as life hurriedly moved past them. He thought about the way they’d curl up on the couch on days they could find time and watch horrible romcoms that were so bad they shouldn’t have been given the light of day to begin with while they fed each other Chinese from tiny take out boxes. The way Jack would look at him like he was  _ worth everything _ to him and kiss him exactly like that. They could do all that again, fall in love and do it right. Fix it all for the better.

Instead, Jack turned the door knob and walked out.  


Brock was left staring at the space of where he stood as the room door slowly closed itself shut and he blinked a moment of realization that he really was gone, that once more he wasn’t coming back to him. He brought his hands up to his face, breaking down all over again.

  
  



	6. Taking it all back

The soft hum of the a/c running gently within his room broke into Brock’s dreams as he rolled over, his arm hitting the night table next to the bed and he slowly opened his eyes. As he attempted to get a grasp on where he was, blinking the blurriness away, he carefully came to the realization that he was in a hotel room.

That wasn’t what really bothered him, it was the ache he was feeling, the sensation that he was hurt, like someone took something from him, something important and left him a hollow shell of himself. It was so very specific and familiar that before he had a chance to get his brain really running, he froze to the movement of someone beside him on the bed, his heart jumping.

So many possibilities came to him, thoughts and hopes and a stab of excitement but then an arm dropped against his ribs and it was more slim and delicate than what he was thinking. He wasn’t expecting that at all and the small murmur of softness close to the other pillow beside his only made him try harder to recall all the night’s events.

“Has anyone ever told you that you think too loud?” Natasha mumbled sleepily as she gathered herself up in more blanket, the air so cool that it was definitely called for when outside it wasn’t even thought of to use a blanket.

Brock rolled over and looked at her, staring at the way she had burritoed herself, hair a mess and two soft pillows stacked together under her head. She only snuggled in tighter when he didn’t respond and slowly she opened her eyes, staring at each other for a long moment.

There were no words as Brock tried processing his evening. He pushed to remember every step and movement since the strip club. He knew they were kicked out and then stumbled along the streets for that first bar that looked like it was from the set of Gilligan’s Island, then it began to get a little fuzzy. It must have been the point he began drinking heavily and then there was Jack, who brought him back to the hotel.

Then it came in, all at once, and Brock was hit with the memory of his love confession for Jack because he couldn’t handle it anymore and that he just  _ had _ to admit it. Then he remembered Jack leaving him so abruptly, angry and harsh and crushing any possibility of them ever being together again after the wedding was over. Not only did he lose Jack romantically, _not that he apparently ever truly had him_\- Brock reminded himself, but their uneasy friendship had been completely destroyed by his drunken impatience.

Apparently a little while later Natasha showed up, slapping at his door and forcing him to open it. She’d stumbled in after getting Clint to bed, evidently too drunk out of his mind to carry on with the rest of them and she came along to make sure he was safe, then came to check on him. When he answered the door, he couldn’t really hide the mess he’d made, things tossed around and all the bedding Jack had touched thrown to the floor. It wasn’t as bad as before, where it was stuff they shared in a place they called theirs. His brain reminded him enough times it was still a hotel where anyone could call security on him and get him arrested, but there was no way he was disappointing Bucky and Steve by doing something too reckless. Natasha pushed herself in and tidied up after making him sit at the desk chair where he promptly buried his face in his hands, blubbering to himself before he was directed back on the bed after it was made, despite not wanting to be on it.

He was grateful for not having to be forced to ask aloud if she would stay with him, only a quick retrieval of her phone probably telling Clint something basic but enough for him not to worry about where she was before it was tucked away again. She then turned her attention on him and wrangled him into bed before climbing out of her jeans and t-shirt and pulling on one of Brock’s tank tops from his carry on and climbing into bed after him. It was a thing they had, something she had with a few of them, no questions asked because she could read them like books and be there for comfort and support, it was times like this he was really glad Clint was there to do that for her whenever she needed that sort of comfort in return.

She always knew how to read him, keeping herself available but not in his space and it was exactly what Brock really needed right then, his heart hurting and his head spinning worse now that the alcohol was settling in him and had time to churn into something vicious and unsettling. It wasn’t a surprise but it struck him hard when he suddenly felt sick and he had to fight with the blankets a little before he leaned off the side of the bed and grasped at the plastic pail Natasha had brought out from under the side table for the coffee maker trash. He could feel her moving in to kneel next to him, her hand light across his back as he threw up in heavy, violent heaves.  


“I fucked up, Tash.” Brock mumbled as he reached for the slim box of tissues waiting on the night table, still gripping the garbage can and unsure of what his next move was. “And you were wrong. He ain’t in love with me.” His stomach lurched and he groaned. “Never loved me.”

Long fingernails gingerly brushed across his scalp and he couldn’t help but lean into it. “Brock- ”

Brock quickly shook his head to stop her from interrupting. “I told ‘im. Like a fuckin’ idiot, I couldn’t wait and we were bein’ so good ‘round each other.” He wiped his face again, realizing now how badly his hands were shaking and how he couldn’t stop it. “Said I love ya like a dumbass and ya know what he did? _He left_. Jus like last time, tellin’ me he ain’t ever been in love with me and that he believed me when I said I didn’t. Then he was gone, exactly like last time.”

Natasha didn’t press for details, she only pulled Brock into her arms and her fingers softly stroked his hair. They stayed that way until he felt himself easing down from the whole event, his stomach settling itself and the room was spinning a whole lot less. When he pulled away from her, gathering himself together, his aim to get to the bathroom was stifled by shaky steps and Natasha was quickly there to assist him to it, his palm sliding over the aging wallpaper and disappointed in how easily Jack got to him still.

“Do you need me to be inside?”

Shaking his head, Brock picked up the wash cloth to run it under the tap and quietly the door was closed shut behind him. He cleaned his face slowly, brushing his teeth and swishing his mouth with some of the complementary mouthwash the hotel provided until he really felt like he was decent again. When he’d get up in the morning, he’d get the rest of his body, get himself under a scalding hot shower and scrub every inch of his body to erase anywhere Jack had been in contact with him.   


There was about a day left for the wedding and then the next one for everyone to leave on their different flights back home and that was it. No more Jack to deal with and he was glad for that. No more pining and being pathetic about it, he was going to be a new person altogether and move on from all of this. Jack did, and he should too. Pausing to stare at himself in the mirror as the water ran, his bloodshot eyes peered back at him.

The tap was turned off when Brock could finally get himself moving, it was then that he picked up the low whispers from the entryway in his room.

“ -a second.”

He keenly listened in, wondering if maybe Clint had shown up to make sure everything was okay. He knew he’d drank a lot as did he, it wasn’t something out of the ordinary but he also didn’t feel like talking to anyone else right then, resting his hands against the bathroom counter and laid in wait.

“Everything’s taken care of.” Natasha’s tone was tight, more words clearly wanting to be said but weren’t. He could already tell that wasn’t Clint. “You can just turn yourself around and go back to your room. That’s how simple this is.”

“B-but, I..” Jack stumbled on what to say, his voice suddenly much clearer in Brock’s ears and he automatically straightened up. A small fragment of himself instinctively yearned to step out, Jack’s stuttering always making him react to his distress. He shoved it aside instead, his eyes darting towards the window in a rush of minor panic over the idea of actually seeing his face so soon again. He shifted his gaze towards the door which wasn’t even locked and hoped to God Natasha didn’t let him in.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here, Jack.” Natasha insisted, her tone firm and Brock had a feeling she’d sound a lot more scarier if she really had to.

Jack didn’t respond but he clearly hadn’t left yet and Brock continued to stare at the door, his hand pressed flat against the sink counter wondering how long he could hide out and if it was better if he just stepped out to see what he wanted.

“J-just tell me if he’s oh-okay.” Jack softly murmured, words Brock barely able to make out, though luckily he was close enough to the door for him to pick up.   


There was a part of Brock that wanted to step outside and tell him to fuck off. He had so many things he wanted to say, maybe punch him in the face too while he was at it, to hell with the wedding photos because all he wanted was to finally get the chance to tell Jack off before he decided to never speak to him ever again.

It was then that he made the unfortunate mistake of looking at himself in the mirror and stared at the sad, defeated look in his eyes. He quickly realized he wasn’t sure he’d have the energy to go that far despite how unhappy he was, his body quietly crumbling against the covered toilet seat and dropping his face in his hands.

Natasha didn’t say anything for a long moment and despite trying to avoid the conversation, Brock wondered what was happening behind the door between them. Was Natasha sternly staring him down with her arms folded over her chest, was Jack looking as unhappy as he may have sounded right then?

Soon there was a long, tired sigh from Nat, a pause and it lingered heavily. “You both need your space right now, despite how much you two have been lying to yourselves about that since day one. Go back to your room Jack, get some rest. We owe Bucky and Steve our all to make things go smoothly, focus on that. Goodnight.”

Brock waited, wondering if Jack would make an attempt at pushing his luck. He didn’t, lingering a few seconds before he mumbled a goodnight in return and then the door opened, stepping back out in the hallway and Natasha closed it quickly, bolt turning into lock.

He was suddenly met with a wave of relief and a small pang of sadness. A few seconds later there was a click of the bathroom door and Natasha peered inside, their eyes meeting in silence. Exhaling the breath Brock didn’t realize he was holding, he pulled himself up and dragged himself over to her. She hooked an arm around his and they walked back to the bed, getting in for the night. Brock was surprised at himself for falling asleep so quickly after all that.

That was all he managed to remember from the early morning, his eyes trailing across the ceiling as he let out a low groan, fingers rubbing across his forehead. Natasha turned to look over at him and reached over, patting his chest understandingly.   


“Be a good dear and hand me a water, my mouth feels like I’ve been eating cotton.”

He definitely understood that, groaning a bit more when he had to stretch a little for a pair of water bottles on the nightstand and handing one over to her. While he struggled with the minor task of opening his own bottle, Natasha already unscrewed her cap and drank the whole entire thing.

She rolled over onto her side and had her phone in hand as Brock took a few tentative sips, unsure if it would help or make things worse for him. The clock read that it was just about to be eight which meant he had only an hour to pull himself back together again.

“How are you feeling after sleeping some of that alcohol off?”

All he could do for a long moment was press his hands to his face and Natasha waited patiently. They had to meet up for the seaplane back and Brock wasn’t looking forward to facing Jack again so soon.

“Made an ass of m’self.” Brock bemoaned. “I dunno if I can face ‘im after he flat out told me to fuck off.”

Natasha rubbed his arm again, giving it a soft pat. “Not that I’m siding with Jack, but in his defense, you  _ were _ pretty drunk. You say a lot of things you don’t mean and sometimes things you never wanted out in the open in the first place.”

Brock agreed, despite it not making him feel any better. He tried to see a bright side but it was hard when he knew it probably bothered Jack too, that he was there and attempting to salvage at least a little of their friendship, seemingly having a good time in his company alone only for Brock to destroy it with three simple little words. They had all come together for Steve and Bucky and instead he was selfish and impatient, making things harder than it should have been out in paradise.

Suddenly pushing himself up and trying to sit, Brock leaned back against an elbow and rubbed at his temple. “I gotta go to Jack’s room before we head back, I have to apologize to ‘im- ”

“Or you don’t.” Natasha offered, grabbing a hold of his arm firmly. “Don’t drum up more trouble. Let him deal with it today, you’re the best man but he’s still a groomsmen. He’s looking out for Steve, along with Sam and Thor. They’re making sure everything is order for him, Jack doesn’t need you setting up a distraction.”

While it was true, Brock couldn’t help but make a face and Natasha rolled her eyes at him in return. She moved in to give him a hug and consolingly rubbed his back a few times. Brock accepted it, leaned in a bit hoping his headache would alleviate itself soon and maybe his heart would quit breaking every time Jack crossed his mind.

“On the bright side, you can easily play the whole thing off as a drunken mistake that you don’t remember. I’m quite certain Jack would believe it.”

Brock opened his mouth a little, ready to counter her proposal, only to realize it actually did make sense. While he didn’t really want to lie to Jack, acting like he didn’t make an ass of himself would be the only way they’d get through the whole day. Finally, Brock lowered his shoulders a little begrudgingly, accepting the idea. “Yeah, sure. Makes sense, he would believe it.”

Natasha’s grip tightened around his arm and he turned to look at her. Her green eyes were bright, studying him carefully, waiting until he was truly paying attention because she knew him all too well. He knew that she knew he would have made it worse without thinking, hauled himself to Jack’s room to try to talk it out, probably made Jack more uncomfortable when he’d been trying to keep some sort of line they shouldn’t cross, while also attempting to keep some sort of connection. Brock was the one ignoring all the rules because Jack was so close and his feelings were so damn strong, doing what he could to make an ass of himself and acting so desperate.

“I  _ know _ it hurts. But it’s not just you, Brock. Jack just needs to be allowed to have a choice, make a decision. It’s just as hard for him as it is for you.”

Somehow Brock didn’t believe that. Jack barely showed any ounce of needing him aside from his panic attack and he didn’t count that, only because he knew what would help him and if the others knew there’d be no difference between him or anyone else. It was what anyone that had him for a best friend would have known already.

“You have to keep your head up and not let it get to you, Brock. Think of it like one of your fights, we just need to get through the wedding and the reception and then you don’t see him again if that’s what you choose to do. Ignore him and focus on why you came in the first place, there’s a reason James chose you as his best man. Act like one.”

The face he made was one Brock couldn’t help. Everything she said was right but it all made him feel sick to his stomach, like it was made with a finality he didn’t want to deal with. It scared him, if he was being honest and with the way Natasha stroked his arm comfortingly, he guessed he wasn’t hiding that fact very well either.

He stared absently out the window once he was out of bed and pushing aside the curtains. The sun shone brightly towards him and he tried to savor the sight of being in such a pretty part of the world and hold himself in the serenity before he was back in the hustle and bustle of New York. Brock knew once he was back, there wasn’t going to be any time to mend his broken heart; he’d be returning to the gym for training, take himself off social media for the most part for about a week to regroup and pick up any other press work to boost the upcoming fight he still had obligations with. For once in his life, he wished he could just be left alone, left to mend and pull himself together at his own pace, even if that wasn’t normally him in the first place.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” Natasha offered, as she walked up next to him.

Brock groaned, rubbing a hand to his face. “This day’s gonna break me, Tash.”

She smiled sympathetically, patting his back one last time before her phone chimed and she tapped it lightly against his shoulder. “Clint’s awake. I’ll see you at the seaplane.”

Brock nodded, quietly waiting until the door closed behind her before he was moving towards the bathroom. He picked up his own phone and a part of him wished Jack had sent a text or a note, but there was nothing. He deleted his number a long time ago but even an unknown number could have come through. There wasn’t.

Choosing a random music list from one of his phone libraries, he let it play while brushing his teeth quickly, forcing some kind of order he was struggling to keep. Brock hoped a quick shower would reinvigorate him a little and by the time he got to his hair, he realized it was going to take much more than that.   


“You can do this, don’t pussy out now.” He told himself.

He frowned at his expression in the mirror, the steam from the tap licking along at the edges of the glass. His mind lingered to the warm memories of Jack cooking without realizing he had an audience, Brock watching him stir sauce while water would boil and steam up into the fan on another element as he’d be smiling to himself. He recalled the way Jack would be pleased to show Brock what he was doing when he did notice him there, the way he wrapped an arm around his waist and got him to sample whatever was cooking, the way they kissed each other afterwards because they were both young and delirious about each other. Sure, they were still young but Jack seemed to have grown out of being delirious.

Clutching the sink, Brock wondered if he would ever really be able to escape the constant loop he was in. Wake up for the day just to remember Jack just long enough for it to hurt then shove it down and go on; lay down when it was time to go to sleep only to be struck with the realization that he had no one in bed next to him anymore and would never see that shade of red tinged into those brown strands of hair when the sunlight got to it on his pillows anymore. At least it was a little easier when the strands existed before, there was some semblance of Jack to hold on to back then.

Now that he knew what it was like around Jack after the past two years, he wasn’t sure he could force himself to do this again, not until he found some sort of balance that didn’t leave a hole that was bigger than the one originally left. As much as he loved all his friends, as much as TJ was hoping for them to get back together, he wasn’t willing to drag his emotions back out in the open and for Jack to step all over them a third time. They’d just have to cope without him at future events.

It had been two years, two whole years, where a part of him had been waiting for Jack to love him back, to think it was a mistake that they were apart like he did. Last night was a clear picture of how wrong he was, how pathetic Brock acted and no amount of pleading would have changed Jack’s mind, he got that now. All he did was turn his back on him and dig that knife in deeper.

“Get your shit together.” He ground out before stalking out of the bathroom with a better sense of purpose. At least for right then.

He quickly changed into fresh clothes, packed up his carry-on case and did one last sweep of the room, checking the time on his phone. It was a little early but anything to get out of the room and away from the last place Jack was with him. He was out the door in four minutes flat.

In the lobby he was met with Natasha in a flowery orange sundress and next to her was Clint in a gaudy purple Hawaiian shirt left open with an undershirt underneath. They looked like the world’s most annoying tourists, but it suited them, giving them a small smile in greeting.

“There he is.” Clint called out just before approaching with a tight hug. He pulled back and slapped a hand against his shoulder. “Nat filled me in, sorry about encouraging you to drink so much.”

Brock shook his head. “Ain’t yer fault, Barton.” He glanced over at Natasha. “Where’s the rest?”

“Everyone in mainly Steve’s group left about ten minutes ago. They wanted to stop at some shops they saw yesterday before we headed for the water park, they’re taking the first seaplane which means we have a couple hours to kill before the next one.”

The elevator chimed with Bucky and Steve stepping off, and it felt like the rest of the group was all carefully collected with people Brock felt the most comfortable with, he wasn’t sure if that was done on purpose or not.

Whatever the case, Bucky grinned upon seeing him, his arm already out despite Brock not being sure if he knew or not and the expression was entirely not of sympathy but of elated happiness. They embraced and it felt good, to shift easily into arms that wanted him there, warm and affectionate.

“How are ya feelin’ today? Ready to make it all official?” Brock asked, stepping back to get a real good look at his friend.

Bucky looked great, bright eyed and excited despite the alcohol they were all consuming the night before, though he wasn’t surprised to catch a slight bit of nervousness in his eyes. He knew him enough to know that no matter how much he and Steve told each other I love you’s, Bucky always wondered if he was _good enough_. Brock only shook his head at him and pinched his cheek, giving it a light smack afterwards and Bucky rolled his eyes at him.

“Thanks for making it, I don’t know if I could do all this without your support.”

Brock scoffed. “Yeah right. You two were married the second Steve found that dinky plastic ring in his box of Cracker Jacks, don’t lie.”

Steve laughed next to them and tilted his head towards Bucky, nodding to Brock’s words and Bucky helplessly shrugged. “Hey I still have that ring too you know. It was too small to fit on my finger so I kept it in this little wooden box under my bed.”

“You did..?” Steve blurted out, his eyes going a little misty and Brock was seconds from vomiting over how mushy they were with each other.

He was glad when Natasha was tugging at Steve’s arm and Clint was pulling his, a cab outside waiting for them. Soon they’d be back on the island in a couple hours and he was looking forward to it, he wanted to see TJ again and listen to his stories instead of dealing with the reality of his nonexistent relationship with Jack.

*****

Back at the beach house, TJ was running out of the front doors with Lucky as soon as the golf cart was pulling up through the gates and his arms were thrown around Bucky first. Brock could see by the way Bucky was holding him closely that he missed his brother just as much, saying something to his twin as TJ nodded enthusiastically before he pulled away.   


TJ retrieved a ball chain necklace from under his shirt that was around his neck, two wedding rings hanging off the end. “See, Bucky? I kept it safe, like you said I could! It’s my job, I take it so serious! I was very good about protecting them and today you and Steve get to wear them!”

He turned to Steve to give him a hug next, and then Brock accepted his before moving on to Natasha and Clint. They all got to see the rings up close and he beamed proudly, Bucky draping an arm around his shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of his head.

“I knew you’d keep them safe.”

“I had to!” TJ cried out, almost in admonishment. “If I lost them how would there be a wedding?! You and Steve love each other so much, you both  _ have _ to get married!”

Steve laughed, leaning in to give TJ a kiss to his temple and another partial hug. “We’re lucky you’re on top of it, Teej.”

Nodding in agreement, TJ began ushering them all to get inside. “Mama Frances got some breakfast out, everyone has to eat. Come on, inside! Today is a very big day!”

Bucky looked helplessly over to him and Brock shrugged, gesturing as well to get the group moving. “Well, TJ told ya to move, so let’s go. You heard ‘im, big day.”

As they passed the dining room, it was like an inescapable situation, Jack’s voice picked up over Sam’s laughter and it only drowned out when Thor joined in. It was a large collection of socializing and eating, staff making themselves readily available in extra doses so things ran smoothly for the special day and as Brock pulled out from his own group to at least act like he was hungry, he heard Steve curtly shush at something that Bucky’s whispered to him, though he couldn’t bother with turning to face them. He knew what it was about without having to look.

The kitchen itself was buzzing, so many extra family guests taking over the space that now that they were invited over prior to the exchange of vows. Someone’s aunt was cooking alongside one of the chefs they had, another in curlers while helping herself to a plate of fruit.   


Brock had no idea who most of them were but passed out polite smiles as he made his way around, avoiding a ruckus of teenagers all huddled in a group with faces in their phones and a couple holding their wedding attire in garment bags as one of the house stewards kindly directed them towards a room to place their bags.   


All the way at the other side, through the sliding doors, he had caught Jack sitting alone on the tiny patio that had tucked itself away from the actual back side of the house where mostly everyone was milling to.

He had buried himself in his phone like the others, poking at a plate of fruit that he really wasn’t paying much attention to until one of the random children Brock had barely noticed approached him and reached a pudgy hand out, eyes big and hopeful. It would be then that Jack smiled warmly as he glanced over, picking up one of the napkins sitting near the center of the table to place a few fruit pieces onto it. He’d rest the delicate package onto the waiting hand and the child said something Brock was sure was a thank you before toddling off again to join some bigger kids playing outside near the infinity pool.

Brock couldn’t help it when he found himself smiling.

He was always fond of Jack when he was around kids, Brock definitely wasn’t sure if he was really okay around them but Jack had a soft spot. He was always available for them and they both had a way about it with TJ. Brock didn’t feel insecure that he was boring someone around TJ and Jack loved every moment spent making him happy with the simplest of things. It was that gentle giant aspect of Jack that Brock missed so much.

If it was one of the last things he saw of Jack before they were apart again, he would be content with it.

The guilt suddenly took over, remembering the confession and dumping all of his pent up feelings out in the open, admitting how much he did still love him when they hadn’t spoken since their break up and crying over it. Brock was here to honor his role as the best man and Jack was there to be one of Steve’s groomsmen, neither of them needed the stress and trouble he caused. All Jack was doing was his best.

He wondered if Jack would forgive him, understand that he couldn’t help himself, especially over last night. He knew today of all days, it wasn’t the best time but it was really the only day they had left, at least the only day if they had no plans on ever talking back in New York and if he left it to how it was now, they would never try to even talk again. He was sure of it and that, that was really something Brock couldn’t handle.

“Jack.” Brock’s voice was gentle as it cut through the chaos.

Suddenly, it seemed like everything stopped for both of them, like when everyone was dancing that other night. Sure, people around them continued to move and speak regularly between them but Jack stopped scrolling through his phone and swallowed with a quick bob of his throat as soon as he looked up. He looked mildly stunned and Brock wasn’t sure if he had expected to see him or not before the start of the wedding. Brock took the fact that Jack wasn’t making a run for it as a good thing and approached him carefully, leaning himself against the sliding door frame.

“This isn’t really um- ” Jack started to say, eyes darting to those around them.

Brock understood, that Jack worried there’d be another situation like last night, or a big apology where it meant rehashing mistakes from the evening, all while everyone was running around in a mild panic and were making sure things were going smoothly.

It may have hurt a little that Jack would actually think that of him, but then last night proved he wasn’t good at being on his best behavior and he nervously clasped his hands together, biting back the wave of embarrassment that took over.

He decided it was now or never, summoning up enough courage to get through the next few minutes before he moved in and dropped himself down in the chair next to Jack, an easy grin across his lips. He stole a piece of mango off the plate and ate it as he casually leaned back. “I jus wanted to thank ya for helpin’ me get back to the hotel last night. Clint mentioned that ya offered and I figured now woulda been the best time before we start getting ready and shit like that.”

For a moment Jack looked at him with complete wariness, an air of confusion slowly taking over soon after. “Clint..told you?”

Natasha was right, he needed to clear the air without it sounding canned, let Jack believe he had no idea what had gone on and killed the issue in one hard strike, left it all open for Jack to act accordingly and for Brock not to lose him this way. At least he hoped it would work like that.

“Yeah, he told me. Natasha too. I remember sittin’ with you in a cab, bits and pieces but- ” Brock shrugged, attempting to look sheepish. “Ya know how it can go with me.”

The color seemed to drain a little from Jack’s face, blinking a few times as he stared off towards the crowd of people eating and running around. Brock tried his best to ignore the small tremble of Jack’s hand holding his phone before they both disappeared into his pocket and he cleared his throat slightly. “Yeah.”

“Hopefully I didn’t make an ass of m’self.” Brock said, stealing another piece of fruit and popping it in his mouth, as he chewed he did his best to look like he was open for any and all information about last night in question. Like he had no idea what had happened and that he hoped Jack would open up. When Jack turned back to him, Brock couldn’t read his face again. If he hadn’t remembered every detail of how Jack reacted, he may have mistaken the expression as something sad or maybe even heartbroken. Brock would have been lying to himself if that was it and at this point, he was done hoping Jack had been pining for him.

“So, you b-blacked out?” Jack asked, a little wary and still processing his words. “You don’t remember anything a-after the c-c-, anything after at the hotel room?”

Brock pretended to look surprised, his eyes going wide a bit. “Shit. I didn’t try ta ‘ave sex with ya, did I?”

Jack’s eyes went equally wide and his free hand went up slightly off the table. “N-no. No you didn’t. I-I just meant, I don’t know. We were hanging out, t-talking before..” He chewed his lip pensively. “B-before I left.”

“I ain’t really gettin’ much after the bar.” Brock pulled Jack’s plate of food closer to him and nibbled on a few grapes as gradually as he could. He was mostly trying to distract himself from the way Jack’s face looked so forlorn despite not knowing exactly why and he didn’t want his mind wandering too much over to any fantasy riddled ideas, reminding himself over and over again just exactly how Jack honestly felt.   


The issue was that Jack knew he was a stress eater when it got really bad if he couldn’t drink, it took every ounce of Brock’s willpower not to grab a spare plate and stuff it full of anything and everything not good for his diet plan. “Those two told me ya got me back safe and sound and I jus wanted to say thanks. I owe ya one, maybe a beer or somethin’ back in New York, or somewhere else.”

Jack nodded solemnly, and Brock watched the way he was redirecting his thoughts, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed a couple times. “Yeah, it wasn’t a b-big deal, but sure. We’ll figure s-something out.”

Feigning another smile, Brock tried his best not to think of why Jack’s stuttering was lacing into their conversation as much as it was. He glanced over his shoulder when bare feet stepped out onto the deck a little too loud to be one of the kids and TJ was smiling at the pair of them, holding up a metallic pink bag of bongo’s, the ring shaped snack had been something he’d gotten a taste for since staying here.

“Brock! Bucky says you need to help him find his favorite bowtie, he can’t find it anywhere. He said please please tell Brock to help and if you do you can eat the bongo’s and..” TJ drew in a long deep breath, eyes rolling at the interruption of getting his message out. “I really wanna eat these!”

Brock couldn’t help grinning in awe of TJ, giving him a nod. “Sure Kiddo, open yer snack. Let’s go help Buck out.” He turned to Jack and grinned, taking the sausage off a small saucer he had with some cheese knowing he probably wouldn’t have much time to sit and eat something substantial. He gave his ex one final wink before biting into it and got himself up, realizing that gesture probably wasn’t the best thing to grab for a snack, considering the weird implications and everything going on.

He decided to book it out while Jack stared after him, getting going while the going was good before it got weirder than it already seemed, lightly nudging TJ to go back inside.

“B-Brock.” Jack called out suddenly, a pang of worry laced into it and he cleared his throat. It was enough to make Brock immediately stop over the glass door track, turning around and meeting eyes.

Something was clearly off with Jack, expression a little desperate, like he was waiting for something more than what he had been given of the rundown. Brock searched his gaze and suddenly he was willing to give the whole pretense up if he was about to receive some kind of response that Jack made a mistake over how he reacted, or at least felt terrible for dealing with it how he did. Brock was willing to do almost anything to have  _ his _ Jack back before everything went to shit.

“Last n-night, after the bar.” Jack started slowly, tongue carefully darting across his lips to moisten them. “You _ r-really _ don’t remember any of it, none at a-all?”

For a moment, there was only silence between them. The chatter and noise from the rest of the house sounded like static to Brock’s ears, TJ standing behind him but the recognition of his proximity was even gone, everything fading and muting out for him. He opened his mouth to speak, jaw jumping slightly, hesitating to work and admit that he remembered every second of that night before and meant every word now just as much as then. Maybe Jack could mend that heart he broke all over again, maybe things would be different.   


Too many thoughts flashed through his mind and his mouth paused, closed again as he pretended to think back, a simple stoic expression across his face before he slowly shook his head. “Nope. Nothin’.”

Or maybe, Jack was that much of an asshole nowadays that he was setting him up again to let him fall. They both changed, maybe for Jack it was for the worse. There was too much of a risk and Jack had always proven to him that as warm as he was around him, he was just a callous.

It wasn’t worth it, not anymore.


	7. I won't leave again

The cheers and shouts of everyone gathering around at their arrival caused Brock’s heart to ratchet harder against his chest. Everything around him had started to play in slow motion the closer to the venue Bucky and he had gotten to, like he was more an outsider watching everything unfold than actively in the wedding party. Had he not recognized his own voice, he wouldn’t have known he was even talking to anyone, especially to his best friend.

Bucky’s arm was wrapped over his shoulder, keeping him close as they stood around the lobby of the resort hotel. Only a few steps away, they’d be led out through the back to where a simple beach ceremony had been set up and photographers were already talking photos with guests. A handful of immediate family were surrounding them right then, TJ pressed to Bucky’s other side as they all posed for pictures and Brock’s mouth felt sore from all the smiling he was doing. Mainly his brain was trying to catch up with all the events of the day, his anxiety rolling in at soft intervals and it was weird because usually he wasn’t second guessing himself in situations like this. Here though, it was important that everything went smoothly, even if felt like things were dropping in some sort of path that wasn’t necessarily straight enough for him to keep track of.   


Bucky’s fingers dug deeper into his shoulder as TJ cried out for them to smile again and the flash of the camera caused his eyes to blur for a long moment. He could see the plastered smile he had from one of the elegant mirrors hanging across the way and at least what he was feeling inside, wasn’t anything that translated out. The last thing he’d need is for any sign of his internal struggle while his best friend was seconds from tying the knot with one of his other good friends.

The sun shone high through the glass ceiling and a small nudge of bodies pulled him away to look at the fresh blush washing against Bucky’s face, and across TJ’s. It was nice to see them both so eager and happy, dressed in fine tuxedos and looking so very similar for once. Knowing them for almost his whole life, Brock had almost a harder time realizing they were twins rather than just brothers, and sure, if anything it was their different hairstyles that pointed that out but it was funny how outsiders still got them mixed up if they didn’t know any better. Right now though, they smiled exactly the same, gestured similarly, leaned in for small commentary together; so acutely in flow of one another’s mannerisms that it was like watching a trick mirror. Brock admired them both, lucky to call them family and no matter what was going on with him, he knew he had them to lean on in the end.   


Natasha approached, her hair done up with hair adornments that glittered against the sunlight and she smiled as their gazes met, a hand sweeping towards the back exit. “We need everyone to get lined up, Steve should be here soon.”

Upon the sound of his name, Bucky lit up further and nodded as he softly guided TJ and Brock that way. “I’m suddenly nervous. I know he’s going to show up but still, it’s stupid to think that but I’m just..I wish we were already done with this part and at the reception.”

Brock chuckled. “Yeah, so you can get drunk. Give it an hour, still got more pictures after all them vows the both of ya got written up.”

Bucky stared at him, his smile wide, thumping a hand across his back. “I’m so glad you managed to make it, Brock.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how fond ya are of my ugly mug.”

TJ giggled at Bucky’s other side and Brock couldn’t help but give him a wink while he hooked his arm with Nat and they all headed towards a couple of the guys already standing at the altar.

When the ceremony had started and Steve was making his way down the aisle, his old friend and mentor, Nick Fury was there walking proudly next to him in preparation to giving him away. Brock could see the moment Steve locked eyes with his husband-to-be, it was like nothing in the world would have mattered and no one else existed for them. He and Nick walked steadily with the pace of the music despite how Steve’s hand pressed hard to the side of his pant leg clearly wanting to get to the altar faster than he was given.   


The longer Brock stared, the stronger the feeling of pride and admiration took over, a twang of jealousy lacing in despite not being able to help himself with that. TJ was standing tall to the side, Natasha gripping his hand softly as tears were already rolling down his rounded cheeks and even Lucky was there, golden coat brushed extra nice for the occasion and a bow tie collar around his neck as he sat quietly and leaned against TJ’s leg in comfort. Bucky was on the brink of his own tears, his eyes shining as Steve’s mouth curled upward a little and reminded Brock of that skinny kid in elementary school the first time he met Bucky. Happy to introduce himself but also a little unsure of all the goodness coming his way. He could hear from the soft sniffles, his line of vision catching light dabs of tissue at corners of eyes and Brock swallowed hard, not wanting any of that emotion taking him over.

He suddenly felt a tug at him, an invisible pull across the other side of the altar and he was met with Jack looking his way. He was clustered with Steve’s other groomsmen; next to Sam, Scott and Thor with his hands tucked before him while the rest of the party had their eyes diverted to the groom. The sun lit his eyes up in a vibrant green that Brock couldn’t stop admiring and his fingers itched against his own side, wanting to stroke his fingers along that thin layer of beard he had been so close to the past day just before it had all gone to hell.

Jack seemed to refuse taking his eyes off him and the heat prickling at the back of Brock’s neck seemed to get stronger. Barely reacting to the eager smiles that surrounded him, Jack stuck out like a sore thumb if anyone noticed, everyone’s else’s energy directed at Steve arriving to his destination quickly and the collective eagerness of the group wanting these two men to finally get married already. Those mossy green eyes pierced into Brock, they were saying something to him, and Brock for the life of him wished he knew what it was that Jack kept trying to convey.

All Brock could really think about then, just as Steve stepped up and was taking Bucky’s hands in his, was that he would have given anything to have Jack by his side for the rest of his life. And that he was stupid for thinking so.

*****

Another camera flash blinded Brock and finally the group dispersed so the photographer could take more photos of the happily wed couple with lingering guests.   


He was almost free to disappear when a soft tug pulled him back and an arm slipped around his waist, Brock smiling over already knowing who it was and Bucky hugged him tight. It was going to be a few weeks, maybe even almost two months or so before he’d see him or Steve again once they took off for their honeymoon and then after, he wasn’t sure. Their lives were so busy, but they really needed to try to see one another more often.

“You always have that look on your face when you look at me, you know that?” Bucky chuckled, fondness in his voice as his fingers lightly brushed at the hairs pressed at the nape of Brock’s neck.

Brock already knew what face it was that Bucky was referring to, the same one back in elementary school and they were sitting together on his bed reading comic books and humming along to the music playing in the background. It was the look where Brock had thought he’d fallen in love with him.

It was dumb, now that he thought about it. Sure, now the look was because he really did love Bucky, but in a more platonic, familial way. All he felt for him was happiness nowadays and maybe a little envious that he finally got the happy ending he truly did deserve. It did bother him though that all this time, he was still having the same problem he had then. He made the mistake of thinking he’d found someone to love him like he wanted to love them, when clearly it wasn’t that way at all. It was sad and pathetic, he couldn’t wait to get back home and bury himself back into work again.

There had been a constant sensation of someone watching him, it was the same way he felt when Jack was doing it during the ceremony. Brock had almost missed the vows because of it, unsure of if Jack was still under some kind of confusion over their conversation on the patio or if it was something else entirely.   


Either way, he brushed it aside and kept his focus on Bucky, the one person he did make the trip for..aside from TJ and of course Steve. He leaned in and gave him a firm, warm hug. “I’m so fuckin’ happy fer ya, been waitin’ a long time to see this happen. Both of ya deserve it.”

“You’ve always been my best friend, Brock.” Bucky’s voice was thick, his eyes going a tiny bit glassy as he stared at him, earnest in his smile. “I know with how things were going, it was hard for us to spend time together but it never changed for me. You’re always going to be my number one, you deserve everything too.”

Brock smirked as he pulled back. “Yeah, sure. Jus don’t tell Rogers, or TJ about that.”

Bucky gripped onto his upper arm. His eyes said everything he’d been holding back in his words and Brock couldn’t help the smile spread across his face, a pang in his chest. For a second, they were back in his bedroom, blaring punk rock and huddled shoulder to shoulder over new issues they bought together from the comic shop like nothing changed.

It made him reconsider his previous thought and maybe there was still a chance for him to find happiness if Bucky thought he could.

The occasion was short-lived, and it wasn’t long before Bucky was being dragged away by a family member for another group photograph with Steve already held close to them. Their fingers brushed as he stumbled backwards, an apologetic look across his face and Brock was officially left on his own.

“Yer fine.” He muttered to himself, reaching a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

Brock weaved through the crowd of people, doing his best to greet this or that person that decided to wave or nod his way. When Pepper appeared in his sights, Tony’s brows quickly shot up and began to signal him to turn their way. Brock was definitely not in the mood to deal with Tony’s high energy but he approached anyway, he had to say hi.

He’d seen him come in just a few minutes before the wedding had started while he stood waiting at the altar, a heavy thick burgundy suit on despite the scorching weather and a big grin across his face.

It was good that he made it, Pepper smiling wide and pressed to his side as they shared a kiss while talking about something with a few others, both holding glasses of champagne in hand.

“Rumlow.” Tony grinned at him, and Brock returned a nod.

“How’re ya doin’, Stark? Sure missed a good time at the beach house.” Brock said, allowing himself to be pulled in for a hug.

“You know how work is.” Tony retorted as Pepper fixed his tie. “As soon as I was cleared I popped into my plane with Rhodey, though right now I’d lost track of him and we both flew on over. How’s the fighting circuit going? I hear you got a match coming up soon. You really need to get your fights lined up for when I can actually see one.”

“You know full well I ain’t got any control on when or where they plan that shit. I tell Pep the minute I find out and the rest is history. What ya need to do is take this lovely lady out on a long vacation, both of ya deserve that much.”

Tony threw his head back and laughed while Brock wished that one day he’d get the memo and settle down for a break. All his life he’d watched him constantly working and if the man didn’t relax, he was going to lose it sometime soon.

Leaning in to grab at Brock’s shoulder, Tony gave him a playful wink. “One of these days, maybe. We should do lunch at least. You, Pepper and I, we could probably drag Rhodey too.”

“Well.” Brock nodded. “Whenever we can all match our schedules up, m’game.”

“Brock! Brock!” TJ called, scurrying around mingling guests with Lucky in tow. He turned when TJ finally reached him, giving a happy wave to Tony and Pepper before tugging at his arm. “Will you sit with me and Lucky at the big table, I’m bored!”

“I guess that’s my cue.” Brock chuckled, getting tugged more insistently and Pepper shook her head as she smiled at the both of them.

“Have fun you two.”

Brock grinned, draping his arm around TJ’s shoulders as they headed back towards the wedding party table. He was glad to have a moment with his friend and to get away, a chance to just sit down and take a little breather from guests.

*****

Brock tried to sit patiently through a whole slew of speeches that apparently almost all of the wedding party had to chime in for. Natasha was perfect and with an enormous dose of vulnerability she liked to hide from the outside world, she somehow to get everyone to laugh through their sobs without missing a beat. He was trying his best not to over think his speech, nerves slowly creeping up as TJ continued to tell everyone how happy and proud he was that Bucky was finally married to Steve and that all three of them could finally live happily ever after.   


At that point the whole room was driven to tears at TJ’s sweet, vulnerable honesty and even Brock had to look away in an attempt to avoid shedding his own. A glass of water he’d been sipping at came closer into his line of vision and he glanced over to see Jack giving him a small sympathetic smile. He had tried to forget Jack was now there as they moved seating around to accommodate the surprise arrival of Steve’s great aunt Peggy. Jack quickly helped her into his seat and soon he was slipping into the one for Natasha despite the wide eyed look of annoyance he gave her. She already knew about how Brock had played the loss of memory card with Jack and how Brock suggested they start fresh, but this just felt a little too early for his liking.

He missed the last bit of what TJ was saying as he was lost in his head and he took the glass to take a small sip. Glasses rose in the air and cutlery chimed through the room at another demand for Bucky and Steve to kiss, a rush of cheers going out when they did, the both of them all dopey smiles and full of love.

Jack pushed his chair back as the noise died down, his hand pawing into his suit pocket before finally finding the index card he had tucked away. As eyes turned his way, he downed the last bit of champagne he had in his flute and Brock tried his best to pay attention without allowing his mind to wander away into the past again.

“Hello everyone.” Jack started, lingering a little over the words before picking up where he left off. “I’m Jack, I was invited to be one of the groomsmen for this long awaited, highly anticipated event and I was really humbled by it.”

Brock stared out towards the crowd, everyone’s kind smiles Jack’s way and for some reason, it was easy for Brock to copy the gesture, turning his head back when words didn’t flow and he noticed Jack’s right hand picking at the mouth of his suit coat pocket.

“F-firstly I want to say thank you all for being here and sharing this. I know it was a long flight to get here for many of you and we all know Steve and Bucky would be happy with just well wishes, but to see this many people make it, well..they’re so grateful.”

“I’ve known S-Steve for a long time, I think a little over twenty years give or take and it’s just about the same amount with Bucky.”

“S-since we first met, I’ve seen him c-c-,” Brock straightened up slightly at Jack’s stumble, watching his face cross over to mild panic before he shook his head as if to clear the dust and everyone waited patiently. “I’ve seen him transform from a little beanpole to the man he is now, yet he’s s-s-still picking fights and serving justice in the name of what’s right.”

There were soft ripples of laughter around the room and instead of it encouraging Jack, his ears seemed to grow a slight pinkish hue.

“W-we all know how Steve and Bucky met and were immediately destined to be best friends, S-Steve was smart enough to realize right off the bat that he didn’t gain just one life long person in his l-life,” Jack turned towards TJ with a shaky smile. “He g-gained two. And he was always happy about it, always s-stepping in to be the kind of friend TJ n-needed while to Bucky, he’d always been his..his- ”

The index card tumbled out of Jack’s hand and landed on the table. He froze, staring at it and Brock winced knowing how displaced it caused Jack’s train of thought. He reached out with his hand before he registered what he was doing, slipping fingers against Jack’s and easily they tangled together despite the clear fear across his face quickly turned into surprise. He turned his head to stare down at him and Brock only squeezed his hand, nodding in encouragement to continue where he left off. There were so many ingrained habits between them that Brock just couldn’t let go and despite how hurt he was last night, there was just no way he could allow Jack to suffer awkwardly.

Drawing in a breath, Jack gripped him harder and Brock ignored the stares his way; he cemented his complete attention on Jack and waited for him to carry on.

And Jack did, his free hand lightly grazing across the card before raising his head up towards the guests, everyone still smiling his way. “Sorry about that. But as I was saying, Steve has always been Bucky’s s-soulmate.”

_ Soulmate. _

The rest of Jack’s speech sat drowned out, Brock’s thumb brushing along the side of Jack’s as his mouth continued moving and the whole room was listening. Jack only tightened his hold and Brock just couldn’t pay attention anymore, white noise replacing everything and his mind going blank.

He only came back when Jack gingerly slipped his hand away to pick up his champagne glass, gesturing towards everyone to follow suit and Brock blinked a few times, returning back to earth and grasping at his own drink.

“Bucky, I know t-this isn’t new but please try and look after Steve because we all know how much he s-struggles to look after himself.”

Bucky grinned wide as he nodded and the crowd chuckled, Steve shaking his head, trying not to laugh. “I promise!”

Jack smiled at him, familiar and soft. “Everyone please raise your glasses to toast Mr and Mr Barnes-Rogers, congratulations to the both of you and may happiness always come your way.”

There were a boisterous chorus of congratulations and the chimes of glasses hitting one another. Brock swallowed thickly, and felt his hands itching to run through his hair. He knew now that Jack had finished and  _ whatever  _ their little moment was, it had passed. Once Sam was finished his own speech, it would be his turn to stand and say something, but he still felt like he wasn’t prepared at all for it.

When his turn finally came, he stood stiffly and smoothed his suit out for the third time in an attempt to gather all his courage carefully. There was a lone cough and all eyes stayed on him as he shook his head to himself in an attempt to clear all the nervousness away just like Jack did with his own head. He felt a light tap of a shoe next to his and glanced down only to see it was Jack’s, swallowing down a wave of something building up before nodding to himself and exhaling evenly.

“Hey everyone, thanks fer bein’ ‘ere to share this important event in Bucky and Steve’s life. Fer those that don’t know me, m’Brock. Buck and I, we’ve been best friends..well not as best as Rogers, but I’d like ta think pretty close to that. We’ve been friends since we were kids, and he decided I was gonna be his best man fer a long time..longer than the amount of time I knew about it.” He turned to look over at Bucky, receiving a smile in return. “And it’s somethin’ I still can’t fathom and that’s probably why my speech may be less typical and more about talkin’ about what’s in my heart at the moment.”

Brock carried along regaling the room with anecdotes about Bucky and Steve; how he was there the day the both of them met, how they grew together and bloomed into the couple they were now and how very lucky he was to bear witness to all of it. It was the sight of Pepper dabbing at her eyes with a tissue at one of the front row tables that it really sank in how honest he was really being and he couldn’t help smiling a bit wider despite the way his throat tightened.

“M’sorry fer all the tears, but m’lucky to know these two and I’m happy knowin’ things went the way it did fer them. It was important to me they got their happy endin’ and to share that feelin’ by explaining it to all of you, that was important too.”

A few more sniffles filled the room and Brock only tilted his head Bucky’s way when his hand wrapped around his, giving it a squeeze. He returned the gesture just before Steve caught his husband’s face tenderly and gave him a kiss.

“Bucky and Steve are like one of them fairy tales ya wanna be a part of and hope fer the happy endin’s of.” Brock turned his head their way, both of them arm in arm with their attention all on him. “Ya both dealt with a lot through life and I know, it’s been tough. There’s been struggles and trials, and yer both gonna still deal with things along the way in yer new life. But it’s always been tackled together and that’s the power between ya both. I mean, seein’ you two suckin’ faces gets real old real fast- ” The room filled with relatable chuckles. “But believe me when I say, you guys are what I and a whole mess of others want to have in our lives and it gives us hope that one day, we’ll all get so lucky. Yer a hope that’s never gonna die.”

He choked back a sudden sob that came from nowhere, voice caught up and TJ reached to hold his hand, his face filled with concern. Brock laughed to cover it up, stopping a moment to take a sip of water next to his champagne. He gave TJ’s hand a pat and Lucky eyed him from between their chairs before laying back down, Brock relaxing as best as he could before continuing on once again.

“Fer a long while, I’ve been busy with my career and gettin’ it off to where I am now. I had a past that set me up to be afraid of gettin’ back into lovin’ someone again and in return I couldn’t give no one a chance to be with me. But this weekend, watchin’ two of my best friends havin’ the time of their lives and surroundin’ themselves with people that love ‘em, it reminded me that there was nothin’ that felt as good as bein’ in the company of someone that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” Brock admitted softly, leaving himself open and vulnerable in front of everyone, especially Jack; but it was like closing a chapter, he had to start anew when he got back to New York, and hopefully find someone who would replace that void he’d been with for much too long.

He knew Jack was staring at him, but he purposefully ignored the urge to look back towards him, lifting his glass of champagne in a toast and placing his focus on the happy couple he was originally here for in the first place. People slowly rose to their feet to follow his lead and he smiled, lulled back to the now.

“To Bucky and Steve, and to the happily ever after we know they’re gonna have fer the rest of their lives together.”

A healthy ring of voices toasted Bucky and Steve, glasses chiming all around before a raucous of cheers and whoops rang out among excited clapping to the sweet kiss they shared for all to see. Brock drank down the entirety of what was left in his glass without a second thought and watched as one of the servers filled it right back to the top again, taking another long sip immediately after. He couldn’t care less, especially when he still felt Jack watching his every move, even after he sat back down in his seat and the MC was bringing the crowd back to attention.

Later, after dinner was served and the random speeches from the wedding party that hadn’t spoken yet as well as relatives and friends that wanted to share a story or two were all finished, Brock found himself at an abandoned back table close to where the older guests avoiding the loud music migrated to, watching the crowd on the dance floor.

Bucky and Steve had opened up the partying with a goofy 80’s tribute to their favorite tunes; it was precise and wonderfully practiced as well as hilarious, a dream to watch and he was glad they set up something fun for everyone. It was just enough to excite people to get up and dance, even he’d found himself in the crowd for a track or two among friends, or sometimes just TJ, but there were moments like right then where he’d need to rest, his tie loose around his neck and back pressed firm against the chair. The bright overhead lights were gone and instead they surrounded by tiki torches and strung up white fairy lights bordered around that made everything whimsical and enchanting.

His eyes absently roamed across adjoining tables seeing faces of guests he didn’t recognize before his gaze picked up Sharon sitting by herself a couple tables down. She held a glass of white wine close to her chest, staring directly onto the dance floor with a small, slightly sad smile across her face. Brock admired the way she didn’t care over being caught, and before he thought about what he was doing he found himself sitting down next to her.

“Sharon.” He greeted softly, she tore herself away from watching Steve and Bucky dancing together with TJ, giving him a nod.

Brock glanced out to where she was watching, knowing already that she was mainly staring at Steve. He was twirling his new husband, head thrown back laughing like no one was watching, his free hand holding TJ’s. Sharon’s grip on the glass went a little tighter before she finished what was left and placed it back on the cloth covered table.

“It’s..” Brock started, but swallowed thickly, “Are ya, I mean I’m- ”

“If you’re about to apologize for something, don’t.” She shook her head quickly and gave him another smile. “It’s just hard sometimes, but the heart wants what it wants, even if you never had a chance.”

Brock was silent, but there was this unsettled feeling in the air around him. She’d always loved Steve, even if he only ever had eyes on Bucky, Brock could relate in a way. They sat together until the song ended, and Sharon reached out to take a glass of champagne from one of the passing servers. He watched as she drank it all down in one go then turned to face him again. “Really, I am.”

He didn’t press it, but he did feel bad. Everyone knew about how Sharon felt about Steve, and how it was difficult to move on from something that never was something in the first place. Everyone was a good sport about it though, especially Steve and  _ especially _ Bucky, who always welcomed her any time he’d seen them interact.

Beyond what he’d seen with his own eyes, which wasn’t a lot since they only knew each other through mutual friends, she seemed to be really trying to find a finality in things, something like he was doing for himself this trip. Unfortunately for him, there was just something within him that fought hard to leave.

“Sometimes you get these ideas, these dreams that your life could turn out to be like one of those romantic movies you enjoy watching.” Sharon finally said. “Those kinds of movies where everyone can see how it’s going to go and yet you’re still surprised at the perfect outcome. You end up clinging to it and fantasizing.”

Sharon’s eyes rested on Steve once more. There was a smile of genuine affection on her face, and Brock got what she meant, refusing himself the option of looking around the large patio deck in hopes he saw a specific face in the crowd. He knew she understood there would never be something with Steve and it was all harmless, that knowledge alone made him hope he himself would get to that point, where he could look and hope Jack the best but overall just let it go bit by bit. Of course when he had tried not to look for Jack, he still managed to find him.

Brock let his eyes follow him along the dance floor for half a second before he turned his attention back to Sharon who was knowingly smirking at him, a tilt of her head his way like she was processing him. “I see that you know exactly what I mean.”

“Jack and I, we’re..” Brock struggled to figure out how to say it.

Sharon waited patiently for him to continue, a knowing look in her eyes. They were of course, exes. But there was something not quite settled with him on saying it like that. He just couldn’t do it. They weren’t exactly good friends, but the chance of it lingered enough to be tangible. He stared at Jack, trying his best to place his finger on just what the two of them were, when it suddenly came to him, like a cold wave trying to drown him.

“Nothin’.” Brock admitted softly. “Jack and I, we’re nothin’ these days.”

Jack wasn’t exactly dancing in the crowd, he was more or less just trying to talk to Thor who was dancing and trying his best to get Jack to join in. Pretty quickly though, the collection of people in one space seemed to overwhelm him and he wandered toward one of the open bars to grab a beer before dropping himself into an available chair for a breather. It pained Brock to watch, to know and not be surprised at the retreat, to still feel like he knew him so intimately he could predict his every move.

“But you thought you would get a twist ending that everyone else already knew was going to happen.” Sharon’s voice cuts into his thoughts, and Brock found himself nodding.

“Estranged exes reunited two years later at their friend’s weddin’ they were both in the party fer.” Brock let out a defeated laugh. “Sounds like a tagline fer a shitty romantic comedy.”

He had secretly hoped for it to all work out. That they would become closer, would realize their own harbored feelings and would leave breadcrumbs of clues until everything came together in some amazing revelation. Somehow they’d end up finding their happily ever after amidst all the issues they had built up against them.

“Well, we both know life isn’t a movie.” Sharon reminded him, a hand patting his arm. “And you aren’t the main character.”

He didn’t respond, watching as she pulled herself up and slipped smoothly into the crowd on the dance floor. Steve caught sight of her the moment she was in his field of vision and he pulled her in, giving her a playful twirl before sharply pulling her close to his chest in a hug they both embraced, laughing loudly over the music together. The words played back in his mind and he realized how genuinely happy she looked. That her letting go of something that would never come into fruition was the best thing to happiness she could have ever done. Maybe it was all well and good for her, but it was a little different for Brock. But really..she did have a point.

Brock took the momentum to pulled himself to his feet, stalking quickly across the room. On his way, he grabbed a flute of champagne from off a serving tray and drank it down in one quick swig before placing it on a random table, and then stole another from a second tray, pausing to drink that down in an attempt to clear out all the thoughts in his head and follow Sharon’s lead.

_Life isn’t a movie_, he reminded himself, no expectations. There was no reason to cling to some mundane hope of something more. There was no reason to expect an inkling of it to turn out like the stupid movies he caught himself watching while he was stuck in his bathrobe and not in the mood to talk to anyone, or when he remembered there was some kind of anniversary they used to celebrate and now he was alone and unhappy, or when he’d remember how Jack would go the extra effort to surprise him with something special because it was what he did. 

“Jack.” Brock burst out when he stood before him, a wave of adrenaline taking over.

Jack was caught by surprise, startling up at him in complete shock. He looked around, as if wondering what he missed before turning back his way and Brock suddenly stumbled around in what to say at the moment, what his game plan exactly was that he didn’t come up with yet.

“Oh, hey. I was looking for you earlier.” Jack finally said. “I j-just wanted to say thanks about the- ”

“_Jack_.” Brock repeated. “Forget it, I was jus doin’ what you woulda done fer me, yeah?”

Jack looked perplexed, maybe a little pained, like he was trying to formulate when Brock would need his assistance. Brock himself wasn’t completely sure, he just knew that he couldn’t bear to be somewhere else in the same room as him at his best friend’s wedding and feel the dull pain of Jack not enjoying himself.

He wished he didn’t care.

Brock stretched out his hand and Jack simply stared at it without moving. Shaking his arm expectantly, Brock jerked his head in the direction of the dance floor, like the implication was obvious. Jack still searched his expression like he was looking for an answer, like he was trying to figure out what the catch was.

“You didn’t fly all the way down ‘ere to not enjoy yerself.” Brock said carefully, putting his hand out a bit more for emphasis. “If the crowd is makin’ ya antsy then we can be on the outside, far in the back, but you ain’t jus gonna be sittin’ there lookin’ uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncom- ” Jack started.

Brock shook his head and grabbed Jack’s arm, tugging him hard from off his seat with a jolt of too much strength combined with that simmering drive in him and Jack stumbled forward, hand flying out to press against Brock’s chest to steady himself. It wasn’t needed, that Brock would have managed to catch him in time but still, it felt nice.

Jack didn’t say anything as he pulled himself away, both of them awkwardly walking side by side to join the huddle of their friends on the middle of the dance floor. It took Jack a little time to warm up, but all the alcohol being passed around and the loom of friends encouraging him on soon had him moving to the beat and singing along to the music with Natasha tucked under his arm in their impromptu duets.

Soon after, Jack’s tie was loosened and the top three buttons of his dress shirt were undone. Brock took the opportunity to take their suit jackets back to the wedding party table so they were safe and he was glad to see strands of Jack’s carefully gelled back hair beginning to come loose bit by bit.

The longer they were out there, surrounded by friends and having fun, the less graceful they had become. They began dancing like a pair of little kids and stumbling into one another the more alcohol they ingested and Brock couldn’t help laughing about as Jack laughed along with him more than once. Brock had to reel him back into their small circle a few times before he happened to stumble backwards into some other guest not expecting it.

Bucky and Steve laughed next to them, cheering Jack on excitedly more than anyone. Sam joined in, tugging Riley (‘he’s only a friend guys, just because he showed up to be a guest at the wedding only means he really enjoys being around all of you for this special occasion.’) into the group and the two of them hit it off like no one existed. A friend, right.

Tony came a little after, Pepper happily joining along and stubbornly dragging Rhodey in despite his very loud protests. He gave her a playful dip when they mingled into the middle of the circle and a roar of cheers went out, Jack’s arm finding itself draped around Brock’s shoulders again as watched more people join in with them. Brock didn’t let himself think anything of it.

Jack like this reminded Brock of their college excursions to frat parties and bars, when he wasn’t his sober babysitter. Brock would have to talk him into taking a break when he saw him working himself nearly to death between his credit load, a full time job and anything he could squeeze in between all of that for extra credits and experience. It wasn’t the first time Brock fell for him, but it was one of the many times, happy to see him smile and step away from that restricted hold of control he usually grasped on to.

_Life isn’t a movie_, he reminded himself, _and your love for Jack isn’t reciprocated_.

The words played over and over in his head, until Brock eventually stopped having to remind himself. For the first time this whole trip, there was no harmless ulterior motive. The only thing he wanted was time with his friends, and the ability to have one last exciting night with someone that had once been such a positive impact on his life. He stopped his emotions from getting the better of him tonight, maybe he may not agree tomorrow but right now, things were different, things were mindless and easy.

The music slowed down after a couple of songs, the crowd dispersing a little to refill on drink and food, rest their feet or carry on conversation somewhere away from all the dancing. Brock watched some others pair off, like Tony and Pepper as well as Clint and Natasha, Bucky led Steve off to the dessert table before soon it was Brock left there with Jack. He made a move to walk back to his seat at the front, but Jack caught him by the wrist to gain his attention. Flashing him a questioning look, all Brock got in return was that charming smirk Jack loved to throw at him whenever he wanted to butter him up.

“Weren’t you the one that told me I didn’t fly all the way down here to not enjoy myself?” Jack grinned. “There’s no way I’m letting you go sit down and leave me here.”

Brock barked out a laugh, nodding at his logic with a shrug of his arm. There was no pang in his chest, no secret desire to wrap himself completely in Jack’s arms and never let go. He allowed himself to be pulled in and pressed up close to where Jack wanted him to be, the warm press of his hand at the small of his back.

  


“You were always so much better at this than me.” Jack admitted quietly, the twinkle of the fairy lights catching his green eyes in a way Brock couldn’t help staring at.

“Dancin’?” Brock grinned, shaking his head. “That’s because it’s fun, if it were up to you we’d be sittin’ down and staring at everyone all day.”

Jack was silent, his face briefly shifting to something else, like Brock missed the message. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant anymore or if it actually even was anything. He didn’t say anything to elaborate and only stepped in a little closer so that their chests slightly pressed in and Brock felt a hesitant slide of Jack’s other hand coming across his shoulder blades. Instinctively, Brock brought his arms up; part of him wanted to drape them around Jack’s neck but instead he slipped one around to rest at his back and cupped his free hand to Jack’s shoulder, though he couldn’t help but trace the feel of muscle beneath his shirt if only for a second.

“After this.” Jack murmured, leaning in close to his ear. “Where do you go?”

“To bed.” Brock quickly replied, chuckling a little.

Jack drew his head back with a raised a brow and Brock wondered if he was supposed to read between the lines. Something kickstarted a pang in his chest, and he repeated every grounding thing that he had tried to remember over the course of the night to pull him back from the ledge he was so close to throwing himself off from.

“Y-you know what I mean.”

“Back to New York, where else?” Brock answered finally. “If I could make the effort, I woulda left after the food was served if I’m gonna be honest. I’m scheduled fer a fight in about two and a half weeks and ain’t been trainin’ much since I got ‘ere.”

Jack laughed, like he knew exactly what he meant. In a way, he supposed he did, that it was just a change of vocations but the same idea, even the same city. It was a little depressing, the idea they’d been in one place and never so much as caught a glance at one another, though Brock saw a piece of him in everyone he passed. It was something he couldn’t help.

“Maybe.” Jack’s voice was low, like he wanted to make sure the next words were for him and him only. “We c-could grab a coffee or a drink sometime back home, like old t-times.”

Brock didn’t let the invitation encourage him to hope for something more. He knew Jack was just doing it out of manners, out of an aim to have some sort of friendship and with how busy they both seemed with their work, the chances of it actually happening was pretty slim. He realized that even if he had wanted to, they were just playing a game with each other to drum up a false excitement for something that would never come into fruition.

“Either sounds good, m’game.” Brock agreed, his mind absently wondering what was pushing that stutter of his off again.

“Great.” Jack nodded, his eyes darting away in thought. “Well y-you have my information.”

“I actually don’t.” He admitted, his face heating up. “I uh, deleted yer number. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever talk again and I told m’self if we did want to again, then I’d put it back but now I’m kinda embarrassed.”

Jack laughed, it was sharp and sounded a little forced before he reestablished himself and nodded. “I should have realized that, of course you d-did. Makes s-sense.”

The impediment was getting to Brock, not thinking too much when he touched at Jack’s jaw to get him to look down at him. “You doin’ okay?”

Jack tilted his head in against his hand before drawing away again and Brock tried not to think too much over it. He nodded eventually. “Yeah, booze is m-making me go up and down, I’m okay. I still have your number, I’ll t-text you whenever I’m free and you can get back to me.”

Brock’s hand returned to perch at Jack’s shoulder and he nodded. “Sure, that works.”

He couldn’t figure out what was sitting between them after that, but Brock felt like there was something much more substantial and deeper than just stilted small talk between two people barely able to call each other friends. It was the best cue as any to make a quick escape before Brock began to think more into it, it was best to pull away and excuse himself before it was too late. Except now, Jack proceeded to destroy everything Brock was using as a tool, much like he always seemed to do without trying.

“I’m glad you f-for..forced me over here.” Jack admitted, and Brock would never had heard him over the music if he hadn’t been so close to his ear.   


Brock felt arms close in a bit more snug around him and before any sort of mantra could overtake this whole dilemma, Brock exhaled to himself and found it easier to just let things ride. It wasn’t so hard after that to just give him and he found himself dropping his head to rest on Jack’s awaiting shoulder.

Jack held him as tightly as he could without squeezing too hard and Brock found it easy to bury his face against Jack’s neck, inhaling the soft smell of his woodsy cologne, his mind growing dizzy at the onslaught of happy memories that began to rush in. After so long, Jack was still a creature of habit, the delicate familiar scent Brock had gotten so used to forgetting, came back to all of his senses stronger than ever and he couldn’t find himself to care.

Jack mumbled something into his hair, but whatever was said was muffled and incoherent. There was no effort to repeat himself and instead they just swayed gently together for the end chorus of the song before the music started to die out. Unable to help himself, Brock pressed a light gentle kiss on the side of Jack’s head, just below his earlobe. He could feel the way Jack’s breath caught in his throat, but said nothing as he took his time to pull back when the song ended and shifted into something more upbeat.

“This is all almost over, soon we’ll be going back to reality.” Jack pointed out. He dropped his arms away but the nervous way they went shoving into his suit pockets told Brock there was more to what he said than that. The problem was though that he couldn’t afford messing up, not here at the reception around everyone else on Bucky and Steve’s special day.

“Yeah, but hey, it’s what ya wanted.” Brock reminded him.

For some reason, Jack’s noise of agreement was less than convincing.   


He thumbed the open bar over his shoulder aimlessly as they stepped aside to let others have room to dance. “Wanna get another drink?”

The thought of drinking the night away with Jack was tempting, but it reminded him of the mess he made the last time he did that and thought better of it. “Nah, think m’gonna head outta ‘ere, walk back to the beach house and get some peace, see some stars and shit. I never get to see ‘em much back home and I’ll hate m’self if I don’t take a couple pictures.”

“Back alone?” Jack mimicked the face Brock made at the assumption of it. “Don’t make that face at me. It gets pretty dense the further from the resort you get, there’s only the dirt road to walk on and who knows if you run into something you don’t expect.”

Brock couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Yeah because a turtle may go feral and attack me, sure Jack. ‘Sides, they got lit torches along the road, they’re few and far but it’s good enough.”

Jack’s terse expression made Brock pause as he watched him walk away towards the wedding party table and grab their coats, it seemed to take a small bit of effort though to even get there and Brock wondered how drunk he still was. Jack leaned in and whispered something to Steve when the man looked his way and his friend smiled before they gave each other a hug and Jack was coming back his way, Steve giving Brock a wave before going back to talking to some family members that had gathered around the table.

“Let’s go.” Jack mumbled as he folded their coats over his arm and led the way to where the exit was.

“What? Jack- ” Brock jogged behind him as they wandered back into the brightly lit resort lobby and out the front doors, the warm salty air whipping around him more out here and his body felt heavy as if he was wading in quicksand. Now he wondered how drunk he really was.   


He finally managed to grab Jack’s arm and get him to stop when they were away from the building and onto a walking path. Brock let go only for Jack to catch his hand and he tilted his head, that warm smile back again.

“You wanna go across the beach?”

“Right now? You were the one warnin’ me about shit comin’ outta nowhere and ya want me to go across the wet sand in my _suit_?”

His protests were clearly ignored as Jack tugged him along until they were away from the makeshift golf cart roadway and finally on the beach. Jack dropped his hand and leaned against the nearest coconut palm, resting their coats against a hammock before he was taking off his shoes and socks, then rolling the bottom of his pants up.

“Are ya outta yer mind, or jus that drunk?”

“We’re leaving tomorrow, what’s the problem?” He countered.

Brock stared at him for a long moment and he was right. Whatever happened, they still had tonight to share. Quickly he followed suit and Jack glanced over, the smile across his face going wider and Brock preened to it, wiggling his toes into the sun warmed sand.

“We can follow the beach until it ends then into the bush, then just follow the road to the beach house.” Jack offered, picking up their coats and draping them across his back after hooking them off his index finger.

“Sure.”

It really was dark out, but a sliver of the moon shone over the water and gave the whole area a dark blue hue to it. He took a few quick pictures with his phone, unsure if he’d have time while walking and then picked his shoes up, admiring the blanket of stars that shone down on them. On another day he would have loved getting to share this with Jack and only Jack alone. Tonight though, he had to remember they were just holding some kind of friendship together and that was it.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Jack murmured, suddenly too close and Brock turned his head, catching that soft familiar way he’d always see Jack staring at him back when they were dating. As of late, it was becoming more familiar, and made things harder to process for his brain.

“Heh.” Brock flashed him a grin, glancing back up at the sky. “Is that yer setup fer new dates? Tell ‘em that then say nothin’s prettier than them after they agree?”   


Jack didn’t reply but they both continued to walk together; after all the noise and people, this was a huge welcome. Maybe Brock wasn’t in need of the quiet like Jack but for some reason being only strictly in his company was good enough for him.

“I haven’t actually dated anyone s-since, you know.” Jack finally admitted.

The sounds of water lapping across the sand and over their feet filled the silence, and Brock felt his brain go blank for a few seconds before he turned to Jack. “Why not?”   


Jack shrugged, shaking his head as he turned to look out towards the stars. “I was focused on the bakery and I didn’t really think about it. The only person I’ve used a line like that on,” He turned back his way. “Is you.”

Not knowing how to take that, Brock scoffed out a small laugh and ignored the blush creeping across his face. He was so glad it was night and that Jack couldn’t entirely see how flustered it still made him. Where was that confidence to have fun and not take things seriously go? Jack wasn’t even trying and Brock was acting like a smitten teenager.  


Their hands brushed against each other and Brock bit his lip, trying to pick a change of topic. Instead he thought about how romantic it was to be here like this, like he’d always wanted. Jack was the one who thought about weekend getaways to snow-covered cabins isolated from people but Brock more preferred a beach, a cool drink in his hand and the sun giving him a tan..the people part was neither here nor there. It didn’t help knowing how Jack looked in wet swim trunks was a bit lewd but that was beside the point.

“Thank you, for being there, especially when I’m not being the best person to deal with.” Jack quietly acknowledged after their hands bumped against each other once more.

“I’ve always dealt with yer shit, what’s new?” Brock chuckled, and it was Jack’s turn to shake his head at him. “Yer okay though? I was worried a second there in that kitchen, but with everyone last night and the weddin’..yer headin’ on home soon at least.”

“I’m fine.” Jack stared forlornly at the moon reflecting off the water, like he was trying to be somewhere else or avoid the conversation entirely.

There was a lull and Brock stared out to where Jack was looking, before staring back at the man himself. There was no effort to meet his eyes and he wasn’t sure exactly what Jack wanted right then. When their hands brushed into each other a third time, he reached out and softly touched his arm.

Jack finally turned to look at him, a heavy sigh escaping before Brock accepted taking initiative and took his hand, their fingers knitting together.

“I’m tired, Brock. I just feel it suddenly. And I miss- ” Jack paused, a momentary look of panic across his face before he shook his head at himself and turned away. “I miss..things.”

“Do ya wanna talk about it?” He asked gently.

Jack shook his head and Brock didn’t push. The walk at the beginning seemed to go for miles but soon they had found themselves at the end, the light of a torch faintly burning away past a veil of foliage that marked the roadway.   


Wordlessly they got their feet dry as best they could and dusted off as much of the sand back on the beach they could before slipping their shoes back on, Brock mourning the loss of Jack’s touch all over again.

It was more quiet on the dirt path, trees muffling away the water. He stole another glance at Jack when they passed another torch marker, clear signs of exhaustion taking over his face and Jack caught him looking, his hand absently scratching at his scar.

“I don’t know what’s happening in my head, especially with everything b-being over. I should be glad, they’re married and I can head home s-soon.” He huffed in annoyance. “Also unsure if it’s me being tired or if the alcohol is s-slowing me down, or both right now but it’s all hitting harder right at this moment in time.”

Brock shifted in closer, his elbow lightly nudging at him. “Seems like a little of both, ya need ta relax, Jack.”

Letting out a soft grunt, Jack didn’t respond for a long moment as they walked, but then suddenly he did in his own way, stepping closer and their sides pressed together.   


Brock didn’t look his way, didn’t know if he should. Instead he brought his free arm around Jack’s shoulders and he seemed to lean into the hold which made it easy for Brock to run his fingers through Jack’s dark hair. It was nice like this, despite how much he knew he was falling back to his old ways from earlier, a smile teasing his lips as Jack stayed silent the whole way.

They were let in through the gates and Brock led him through the front of the house, except the moment it was clear he was sending Jack to his room, Jack froze and seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he was sorting through. He stopped them both from moving on in the hallway and shook his head adamantly.   


“I can’t. Not tonight.”

Jack pressed himself against the wall and stared up at the ceiling, eventually turning his way again. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Brock stared at him for a long moment, the words refusing to register properly before they finally did and the message was loud and clear in his gaze. Jack didn’t seem like he was incapable of making sound decisions and it made the situation feel much worse, that he really wanted to be with him.

“I’m not that drunk, if I even remotely was from before. You’d know I am if I was.” His voice softened a little. “You still know every little thing about me, Brock. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t serious.”

Brock still didn’t know how to answer, and Jack reached out and took his hand, their fingers tangling together. It was what Brock saw in his eyes that did it for him, he’d seen it the entire time Jack would look at him during the duration of the trip but he managed to hide it by saying things to push him away or take it back. Finally, he nodded to him when he realized that Jack was waiting, and they both moved away from Jack’s room and headed for Brock’s.

At the door, Brock paused as if waiting for some kind of permission despite it being the one he was sleeping in. Jack only pushed through, tugging him along. The room suddenly felt small, smaller than it had ever felt before, almost smothering and too intimate. Brock wondered if the bed would be too much, it was a queen but he felt nervous, overwhelmed, the thought of last night happening all over again scared him a little.

Jack made a half aborted move to get the room light, but then stopped himself, moving over to the nightstand and turned the lamp on instead. Brock only stood beside the now closed door watching him, staring open-mouthed, and while he allowed him to be led inside he continued to wonder if he was making the right decision no matter how innocent everything was laid out to be.

Turning his back to him, Jack pulled back the covers. Soon he was taking off his shoes and socks before stepping out of his suit pants. He checked his pockets for his phone, curiously staring at the boutonniere he had there too before setting them both on the night table and tossing his pants to the side. He undid the wrist buttons on his sleeves, leaving himself in boxers and dress shirt.

Brock continued to stare, blinking a long moment before he turned to the drawers he was using to keep clothes in instead of digging them out of his suitcase, tossing a t-shirt on the bed. “At least save yer dress shirt.”

Jack looked his way and gave him a small smile, nodding as Brock torturously watched those long fingers slowly undo every button. “Thanks.”

“Ain’t a problem.” He forced out, picking up a change of clothing and disappearing into the bathroom to gather himself up and go through just exactly what was unfolding. Natasha would murder him but it was _Jack_, it started to feel right and he couldn’t leave him there to be unhappy if he was feeling alone.   


Rinsing his mouth out with some mouthwash and changing, Brock gave himself one more look into the mirror. He wasn’t sure about the shorts and tank top he had on anymore, as if it was too little, too suggestive when your ex was sharing the same space as you were but he decided to exit anyway; Jack already in his bed with one side of the covers still available for him to get into. He wanted to ask again if Jack was really sure because there was still the unspoken situation of the hotel room, but it was  _ his _ bed in the first place and if he decided to be a dick Brock could just tell him to get the hell out.

“Are you coming to bed, or what?”

Brock frowned at the lump and soon he was climbing into the side left available for him, the mattress dipping lightly and Jack turned towards him to watch.

“Are ya..comfortable?” Brock asked hesitantly, carefully laying himself out onto his side while the back of his mind wondered if Jack was seconds from shifting moods. “This is kinda weird.”

“Are you?” He countered, staring at him and Brock suddenly felt exposed. “I know, with what’s going on between us, this is asking a lot. I don’t have a right to but I just- ”

Brock rolled his eyes, if he wasn’t willing, he would have found somewhere else to sleep. He reached back to turn the lamp off. “Shuddap.”   


He settled in and they laid there in silence, mirroring positions on each side of the bed. Jack had been biting at the corner of his lip and Brock couldn’t help watching no matter how much he should have avoided it.

It seemed like forever between them before Jack tilted his head a bit to say something. “T-thanks, Brock..for everything this trip. You didn’t owe me anything, you still d-don’t.”

Brock couldn’t help scoot closer to the center of the bed and Jack seemed to do the same. He gave him a smile, his hand itching to reach out but he kept it resting on the bedding between them, picking at the pilling of the blanket. “You ain’t gotta say thanks, like you said I know shit about ya and maybe yeah, I should be angry at things that went down but m’sorry. Sometimes when it’s you doing the dumb shit, I look the other way more easily.”

“Y-yeah, me too. Things still remind me of you.” Jack admitted. “I imagine a room s-smelling like you even when I know it doesn’t. E-even on this pillow, it’s so strongly of you, as if I’m on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Well,” Brock shrugged sheepishly, fiddling at the neck of his tank top. “You actually are. Afterwards, I slept on yer side fer a long while. M’embarrassed to admit it but I can’t be fuckin’ bothered to hide it.”

At first, Jack didn’t seem to know what to say and Brock knew his tone was clear to express the hurt and pain he’d been carrying all this time. He was still tugging at his top nervously when Jack reached out and gingerly pulled him free from it. He smoothed the material out against his chest and Brock could only stare in silence, swallowing when pads of fingers brushed up the column of his throat.

Jack didn’t ask him to explain further about the bed comment and he wasn’t going to offer anything more up. Brock’s head only inclined towards the palm lightly moving up and cradling his cheek before he could help himself; he wasn't exactly sure when they both gravitated to the dead center of the bed. His own fingers found themselves feeling along Jack’s jaw to trace that warm and familiar scar just like he had in the past.

Brock held his breath, his eyes growing heavier despite how much he didn’t want to lose this moment. He fought to remain awake, to keep watching Jack whose thumb continued to stroke across his cheekbone even if his eyes had started to close. The fear of waking up in the morning to find him long gone lurked at the back of his mind, maybe he would think it was something he dreamed up but then realization would sink in and knew it would feel much worse than just being rejected. That Jack gave in, and gave him something more to cling to, only to let him go all over again.

It was all he needed to convince himself to stay awake, to soak in every perfect, precious detail that they would share until inevitably Jack slipped away from him again. It was already a struggle, the night before adding to it, but he wanted this, he needed it.

A few minutes passed and Jack opened his eyes again to meet Brock’s. “Sleep.”

Brock flashed him a partial smile, Jack’s soft drowsy voice bringing a happy warmth to him. “I can’t.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Jack sighed and his hand closed into a partial fist, brushing his knuckles down his cheek and Brock held back a shudder. “I won’t leave, I wanna stay here. With you.”

A wave of panic washed over Brock, his fear of Jack leaving him only growing worse. He couldn’t close his eyes, there was no way and despite the two years, his love for Jack never went away, never wavered. There was no way it could for him.

A soft huff of annoyance broke in between them, a gentle hum after that and Jack’s hand cupped his jaw as he leaned in carefully, his intent clear despite how slow he moved. “You can and you should. I t-thought a lot about it.” He then leaned in and pressed their lips together, pressing in a small, careful kiss.

He drew back before Brock could really react to the realization that Jack kissed him, eyes glinting in the dark. “Was t-that okay?”

Brock said nothing, trembling lips leaning in again and Jack read him as he always did, fingers slipping into his hair and cradling the back of his head and Brock let him, their lips meeting again. He cuffed one hand around Jack’s bicep to keep him close and Jack pulled back shakily, a small awkward laugh escaping and Brock knew exactly how he felt. It was confusing and overwhelming but neither of them wanted it to stop, not yet at least.

His hand slipped towards Jack’s t-shirt and tugged it gingerly, he was desperate but careful and he felt Jack’s palm press to the small of his back as he kissed him again and again and again.

Brock returned each kiss Jack gave and his whole entire being was alight as he tightened his fingers around the fabric of the clothing.

_ Don’t leave. _ Was peppered in his kisses.

_ I won’t.  _ Was given back.

Something shifted between them, mostly expected but still startling when Jack’s hand pressed roughly at the side of Brock’s neck and his kisses were almost bruising, needy. Brock could only pull him closer in response, and Jack’s other hand dug harder into his back. But Brock wasn’t one to be demure, practically climbing onto Jack to keep him impossibly close, his tongue sliding over lips, hungrily taking everything Jack had to give.

Jack made a sound, a pathetic low disappointment of a sound at the back of his throat, vibrating into Brock’ mouth. Brock pushed it aside like the inner voice that warned him over and over to stop, instead he snaked his arms around Jack’s neck, and feeling the slight tremble coming off his body. Brock considered stopping, knew he should but he was too busy trying to keep up with Jack’s kiss.

“We shouldn’t- ” Jack protested breathlessly despite only moving away so his mouth could latch onto Brock’s neck. Teeth scraped along his jawline and somewhere in the back of his own mind Brock wondered if maybe it wasn’t a good idea to leave marks on each other’s skin, but then Jack’s tongue lapped across his skin and easing the sting of teeth, and it distracted Brock from worrying about it too much.

“_Ah_.” Brock let out, fingertips digging into the muscles of Jack’s back and seemed to be the one give for Jack to press on.

His center of gravity was thrown off when Jack pushed him back, pinning him against the mattress and breaking contact for a moment before he dipped in for another kiss, desperate and demanding. Jack ran his tongue along the line of Brock’s lips and he wasn’t sure if it was meant as a request anymore after the first time, but he opened up either way, eagerly inviting Jack’s back into his mouth.   


Brock made a groaning sound in the back of his throat, his hand tight on the back of Jack’s neck to keep him there, to make sure he knew that. He tasted faintly of alcohol that had long dissipated and traces of the mouthwash Brock had used, but mostly it was just the familiar taste of Jack, and Brock couldn’t help but feel like he was home again.

Jack’s hands traced underneath Brock’s tank top, his fingernails scraped and dug slightly into his skin while the memories of their past together struck him in a million familiar ways that it was almost too much for Brock to handle. He pressed his hips forward, grinding against Jack’s cock, already hard and heavy as it rubbed up against his own. He shameless for it, the solid weight of Jack’s body pressed possessively on top of him, lips bruising his and he wanted to touch everywhere so badly.

Instead he only ran his hands over Jack’s skin, getting lost in the feel of his mouth. He thought about how he could stay like this for days, how they had done it before when schedules aligned and things were better between them. In the present though, Brock knew that wasn’t going to happen and he only had tonight, Jack’s hands are steady at his sides to ground him, unsure still if he could believe that this man would stay.

Soon Brock broke away from his mouth and they both caught their breath, his swollen lips brushing over Jack’s cheek. “I guess Natasha was right.”   


“What?” Jack murmured, his fingers flexing against the soft skin of Brock’s side, sliding up to his back, knowing he was feeling the goosebumps under the tips of his fingers.

“She said we were both obvious ‘bout each other, I didn’t believe her.” Brock explained, his breathing heavy and ragged. “Thought she was jus blowin’ smoke up my ass like she usually does.”

“D-did you hope, at least?” Jack asked, dropping tiny kisses against his neck as he continued the smooth, gentle rock of hips as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh God that- fuck, feels good. M-maybe.” Brock admitted, his legs spreading a bit to fit Jack in perfectly. “But I was tryin’ uh, not to, um, ‘old my breath.”

Jack only hummed in response, fabric-covered cock sliding up against Brock’s, and Brock couldn’t help the way his breath hitched in his throat as his whole entire body shuddered. He didn’t really know how to move anymore, his hands still held at Jack’s sides, the feel of his fragile ribs underneath his fingertips, a wetness blooming between the layers between them.

When Jack pulled away slightly, Brock immediately sought his eyes only to find them glistening with unshed tears and he drew a hand up across one cheek, his thumb tenderly brushing the sleek swell of his bottom lip before tilting his head up to kiss him again.

“It’s okay.” Brock murmured against Jack’s mouth. “We’re okay.”  


He wasn’t entirely sure if the tears were because of the moment, if it was regret or something else, but Jack nodded anyway, burying his face into the crook of Brock’s neck as he ground down his hips; continued to rock against him and held that slow-building rhythm that was causing Brock to equally enjoy and also hate. He could only push up into it, clutching Jack as tight as he could.

“Yeah, Jack.” Brock whispered into hair after a long quiet moment, encouraging him. “Keep on- this is perfect.”

There was a quick pause, not entirely distracting, as Jack pushed down both of their boxers just against upper thighs, hot skin pressed against hotter delicate soft skin, precum spreading at every slide forward and their lips met again for a brief desperate kiss as Jack’s thrusts became faster, heavier. Brock could only hold on for dear life, gasping near his ear when the kissing was beginning to be too sloppy and uncoordinated. He held Jack so close he knew it was painful, but he was insistent on keeping him there forever if he could. He’d take anything Jack would give him if tonight was all he was going to have.

Brock shifted, he was unsure if it was done consciously or out of familiar habit between them he just knew he _wanted_, his legs wrapping around Jack’s waist. The change in position caused Jack to drag his cock underneath Brock’s and past his balls and it forced him to slowly unravel.

“Jack, I- ” Brock struggled to form words, his heels dug into the back of Jack’s thighs as Jack snapped his hips forward and the head of his cock caught at his rim just barely as it slid over his hole in one smooth motion. There was a soft grunt over him and Jack crushed their mouths together, swallowing the keening sound Brock made as he arched his back and came, spurting between their bodies against his stomach and across his chest.

Brock rode out his orgasm, twitching in Jack’s embrace as he fought for air and Jack ducked his face away again, knew he wasn’t far behind him and it only took a couple more slick sticky thrusts for Jack to cum with a shudder, Brock blissed out and floating but aware enough to catch the sound of his name groaned into his skin. He let himself smile just a tiny bit because of it.

After a few minutes of lingering in each other’s arms, Brock wondering when the other shoe would drop, Jack finally made the executive decision to get off him, the stark reality they had cum drying into their skin becoming grossly clear.

“Shower.” Jack mumbled, pulling himself to sit up and Brock wasn’t sure if it was an announcement or a question.

“Okay.” He replied unceremoniously, lust and greed dissipated for the moment and an awkward, uncomfortable sensation came in.

Wincing as he pushed off his arms to sit up, shame took over at the cold sensation of Jack’s cum cooling against his ass and he gave himself a long moment, closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, Jack was standing there completely stripped down, looking at him and slowly he brought his hand out, Brock finally realizing he had been asking.

They stepped into the shower together and Jack took over washing him; he was careful and gentle, like Brock was seconds from breaking. The wash cloth gingerly roamed down and between his ass cheeks so tenderly that with the addition of the warm water washing over him, it was overwhelming and  _ so much _ all at once. He was crying before he could stop himself and Jack froze, staring before his mind came back online and dropped the cloth against the tiles and wrapped his arms around him to pull him close. It was like a dam breaking, sobs catching his throat and Jack stroked at his hair, soft hush sounds escaping from his lips.

“I’m sorry, Brock.” Jack murmured into hair hair, pressing a kiss into it. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, say yer gonna stay.” Brock hiccuped, embarrassment taking over.

Jack stroked his back tenderly. “I ca- I c-can’t- ” He sucked in a hard breath. “There’s no way I can l-live without you.”

He didn’t respond, Brock could only hold on and Jack did the same until the water began to run cold and they were forced to get out. They dressed in silence, taking off the soiled sheets before gathering onto the bed without bothering to put on clean ones.

Brock was too exhausted, and so was Jack by the way his eyes kept themselves partially closed. They shared one pillow together and fingers stroked into Brock’s damp hair, lips pressed to his and he shifted closer, wanting nothing more than to wake up the next morning only to find himself back in the apartment they had shared together and none of the drama they had to deal with.

He finally couldn’t linger awake anymore, eyes closing completely and he felt the blanket being pulled over them, a kiss pressed to temple one last time before he was lost in heavy sleep feeling safe again like in the past. Jack always helped keep his mind at ease and it felt so good to have him there to bring in that comfort all over again. He could only hope he’d keep his word.

*****

A lazy realization that it was morning sank in as Brock felt himself wake slowly. His hand reached out to pull Jack in close again, refusing to open his eyes just yet, but he was only met with beams of sunshine and the bare mattress, no sign of anything more. Abruptly his eyes snapped open, dread overtaking as he pushed himself up and his gaze darted around frantically.

“Jack?” Brock let out, low and quiet. Hopeful that he was still asleep and stepping into a nightmare.

He wondered if the whole thing was something he’d dreamed up, even to the point of removing the sheets. He’d done shit like that before, thrown bedding around and even pulled pillows out of their cases in sort of sleepwalking episode. Jack had even made jokes about adding buttons to keep them secure but the dirty sheets were still in the corner like he remembered, even the second pillow on the bed next to him still had a shape of someone there last night.   


The meltdown was imminent, a hand pressed to his mouth when he heard quiet movements around the house, people were already awake and there was no way he wanted anyone to know about this. He wondered if he was going crazy, created that Jack had pulled the sheets, imagined the shape of his head against the spare pillow. He missed him so fucking badly it was realistic to think he’d do that to himself like some kind of self-inflicted mind fuck, that they didn’t fool around, that all the things he admitted to him were just a coping mechanism so he didn’t go crazy.

It wasn’t until he saw the clothes, the ones Jack had been given; the one shirt and then the change of shorts and another t-shirt after their shower together. All of it sat in a pile on the floor at the side of the bed he’d been on, Jack’s boutonniere sat ominously on the nightstand, left forgotten and Brock came to the realization that the light scent of Jack’s cologne pressed to the pillow really did exist.

Looking towards the door, Brock waited a long moment in some kind of hope Jack would return soon, quickly scrambling inside with a plate of breakfast they could share and a couple bottles of water tucked under his arm, apologizing about leaving the safety of their bed.

The moment never came.

Brock was left stunned and speechless. He pulled himself out of bed with shaky, tired limbs and somehow made it to the kitchen. Natasha and Clint were already there with TJ, deciding over what fruit to cut up while Mama Francis was in the background cooking up some eggs and sausage. When Brock entered, they all smiled his way and TJ clamored off his stool to run over and throw his arms around him, everyone unknowing of the mess of a hole he dug himself deeper into.

“There you are, Brock! I was wondering when you’d get up! I was waiting for so long, but Jack said you were sleeping and needed rest! He said you were very tired yesterday!” TJ rambled as he squeezed him as tight as he could.

“Mornin’. And yeah, I was tired, Kiddo.” Brock hugged him just as tight before slipping into one of the chairs nearby, he tried not to react over the mention of Jack’s name.   


“Hungover?” Clint teased as he placed a cup of coffee down for him. “You look a little green in the gills, you sure all you were doing was sleeping while hanging out with Jack yesterday?”

Brock forced out a laugh that caught a little in his throat, not missing the way Natasha glared at Clint over his lack of tact for the hotel drama prior. He picked up the coffee and took a few good sips; it was still too hot but he didn’t care, thankful for the reroute of pain he was holding back while he tried to sort everything out in his head.

“Who else is still ‘ere?” Brock asked, pawing a hand through his mess of hair and stretching his arms behind his back as nonchalant as he could.

The wait for what he really wanted an answer to felt like an eternity. Natasha listed off a couple of Bucky’s relatives who were staying a few days longer on the island and so were given an invite to move into the house, the rest had gone back to their hotels or resorts to pack up or left early in the morning to catch their flights home. Bucky and Steve were gone for good on their honeymoon early in the AM with the party still going hot, and Pepper had left with Tony and Rhodey directly after them.

“Oh and Jack too.” Clint remembered. “He left about an hour ago. He said he went to say his goodbyes to the few around but then mentioned how deeply asleep you were. Besides Bucky’s aunt and uncle, the beach house is left with basically just us and Lucky.”

Brock stared into his coffee, trying his hardest not to implode. There was no way he could show any sign at how distressed he was, how slowly tears were pressing to come out, to the anger simmering just below the surface of all the pain welling up. Jack was gone. Jack had left him after he said he wouldn’t leave again. Jack had kissed him; they’d done things,  _ intimate things _ together and shared a shower, he had slept beside him like there was no reason for Brock to keep up those walls he’d struggled to build for the past two years. Jack had made the conscious decision as he laid there next to him, snuck out of the room they were suddenly sharing and left without a word, without even a simple note.

Maybe it was partially his fault for so eagerly coaxing Jack that it was okay when he was hesitating, the both of them knew full well things shouldn’t have happened the way they did, especially when they hadn’t figured their shit out yet. But he did it and he gave in, and he wanted Jack back so badly; it was entirely his fault to be willing to ignore it all just for those brief moments of happiness.

_ “I won’t leave, I wanna stay here. With you.” _

Brock wondered when this nightmare would be over, when would he finally catch himself in the ongoing loop of torture and figure out that it was never going to change, when would he finally be free of everything that was Jack and when would the day come where all his pain finally disappeared and he was really happy again.


	8. I've always loved you

Brock went home.

He went through the automatic, numbed emotions of packing his suitcase and as he stared apathetically towards the miles and miles of ocean beneath him as they flew back to Nadi to the drive to the airport, all he could think of was that if he was lucky, the seaplane would crash and everyone would get to shore except him and he could drown in peace.

Both Natasha and Clint shot him looks of concern as time ticked on and they were on the road heading for the airport. Things were said his way and he was barely even present for TJ, though he tried the best he could, it seemed like enough to satisfy him into not asking questions.

They were waiting around until it was time to board, Clint taking TJ to get something to eat. It was then that Brock finally caved, heaving a heavy sigh before he tilted his head slightly Nat’s way. “There’s never goin’ to be anything between us.”

Natasha’s mouth shifted into a frown, her hand reaching to rest against his. “Brock, I know because of the hotel, and then the wedding reception you’re still- ”

“We slept together last night.” He cut in, blankly staring out from the panels of glass and at all the planes gathered around to come and go. He slowly realized his voice had hitched slightly and he couldn’t let himself get upset again. “He knows what the hell he’s doin’ to me and he still does it. I can’t- I jus don’t ‘ave the energy anymore to care. Even if I wanted to.”

Natasha was quiet, her eyes penetrating into his skull. She didn’t ask him to elaborate but he knew she wanted him to, wanted every detail to know precisely what Jack did. It was bad enough Jack tore out his heart, but reliving it was something he just couldn’t prepare himself to do right then. When she came to see what was taking him so long, he was holding the boutonniere between his fingers, just staring at it. He’d planned to toss it into the small wastebasket near his bed but found himself too stunned to do it. She didn’t understand then, but maybe she did now.

“He said he wouldn’t leave and then he did, with full knowledge of how I felt about ‘im and how important he is to me. After all that, he was jus gone all over again.”

He still wished this was some kind of nightmare where they were both together, and everything was happy and okay again. Where Brock didn’t feel tormented and traumatized over the feeling of loss, and haunted by the fact that Jack still existed in his world, even if it was never directly towards him. If maybe he was able to understand what Jack was thinking, _really thinking_, and if maybe he actually listened instead of jumping the gun every single damn time. But in reality, none of that wasn’t going to straighten out, and unfortunately he had no choice on the matter because of it. They just didn’t live in that world.

Natasha continued to stare at him, the hand on his giving his fingers a squeeze and in the end, she didn’t say anything, only letting out a heavy exhale before her head dropped against his shoulder and they waited for Clint and TJ to come back with food, even though Brock had lost his appetite since he’d been awake.

“One of these days soon..” Brock murmured low, leaning his head against hers. “Real soon, m’gonna figure it all out, Natty. I fuckin’ promise ya that, and I’ll be happy. Yeah?”

They laced their fingers together and she inhaled wetly, though he couldn’t see her face to figure out if she was upset over this or just feeling under the weather. Though she had always been there for him, called out his shit when he was being an asshole and took care of him when Jack wasn’t around anymore. He tightened the hold she held and turned his head just enough to press a kiss into her fiery red hair.

“Yes, Brock.” She promised. “All this won’t mean a thing soon and you’ll hate yourself later over how worked up you were about it. And keep bitching to me about it as usual.”

Brock let out a startled bark of a laugh, certain that she was right but the tears still clung to his eyes as he bowed his head down and away from any random onlookers. His rationality had developed better over the years, he was aware, but it didn’t make the pain any easier. It only made him angry and frustrated that he couldn’t control it better.

And either way, Jack wasn’t coming back.

Most of the flight back to New York was monotonous for the most part, mostly with TJ curled up the best he could while still buckled into his seat to hide how upset he was. His tears flowed the moment they had taken off and continued sporadically throughout it. He already missed Bucky being ever present as he always was and Steve being gone too the second reality hit for him that he wouldn’t see them for a month. Natasha had to switch seats with a kindly lady so that she could sit next to TJ and she and Brock would bracket him comfortingly while reminding him that he himself was going on a mini vacation while they were away.

TJ had calmed down by the time they’d flown from LAX to JFK, much too tuckered out to be anything once their travels were officially completed. After a promise of giving his friends a call tomorrow once he was awake and holding TJ impossibly tight with a lunch date set, Brock taxied himself back home in an endless blur and soon he was falling face down onto his pillow, in his own bed. He exhaled in a long groan, pulling a couple of blankets over his head because the heat hadn’t been on and there was a stark contrast in weather from the muggy heat of Fiji. He snuggled against one pillow as he wrapped his other close to his chest in a tight hug and he was out before he even had a chance to think about it.

It was nice to actually sleep and get through the whole night without waking up until the early morning. For once Brock didn’t have an alarm tearing him away from some kind of obscure dream and he oddly felt good about the prospects of the day. It was like a hope had bloomed in his chest and continued to grow. He knew it was a sign that he would get through this.  


He knew it would be easier without Jack hovering around and now that he knew there wasn’t a chance, he’d be able to burn off that lingering need to be with him, to let the past be in his past and start a new future without him. He promised himself that, he wouldn’t even consider telling Jack to go fuck himself like he’d been planning to on the plane ride back. He was going to be above all of it, he did it with his career and now he was going to do it with his love life.

*****

The first week was a depressive struggle, even after what he thought right after he’d woken up after his return. It had gone off with a bang and felt almost impossible to screw up. He was busy meeting up with his coach again and feeling that familiar burn of his muscles in a deep routine. He went to visit his friends and although he knew Clint had known by then, they still all acted like nothing bad had happened. Bucky and Steve called to check in on them every day if they could, and it was good to see TJ excited and happy he could interact with them through video chat.   


One of those days, he came by and took TJ out to dinner at one of his favorite restaurants like he’d promised and they came back with a small ice cream cake for everyone to share. The night wrapped up with movies and Brock slept on the couch overnight. He felt good, and had a positive outlook on life and hoped his little downer would disappear.

The next day it seemed whatever was keeping Brock on some kind of balance slipped away and he kept running into things that reminded him of Jack, even his shower wasn’t safe. He began to feel out faded bruises and ran his fingers across his lips absently as he recalled how Jack kissed him. At some point he ended up on Jack’s old Instagram account, the one Brock knew he logged into just to like other posts but rarely used for updates, which was still true as there had only been a few old pictures left up. An idea had come to him to try looking up the bakery, of which he didn’t even know the name of, but Brock refused to do it. Mainly because he knew himself, knew that it was too much of a temptation and he was afraid he’d end up there in person somehow if he really got to a low point.

The biggest regret was when he added Jack’s number back into his phone and the urge to call him was so strong that he almost did a multitude of times, especially in the early AM hours when he knew only his voice would help him to fall asleep. He hated himself so much.

It was pain and then more pain over a mountain of misery, every second of every day, as if his heart broke only to mend itself together and shatter again. There were points where Brock wondered if he would survive it, or if it would be what would finally kill him. Sometimes he was unable to breathe and he was frozen on the floor, alone and in the dark, or tucked in the back corner of the room hidden away and it dug in so deeply that it felt like he’d never be able to recover.

He started to hang around later and later at the gym he trained at. Or he’d return after it was closed since he had a set of keys for himself that Jimmy, the owner of the place, had bestowed him a year ago. His coach began pointedly making comments, he’d known something was up almost immediately but didn’t ask. He only warned him to keep his head in the game because nothing was worth bringing him down. Bucky and Steve knew something was amiss as well. He could tell that they didn’t know  _ exactly  _ what had gone down, Natasha wouldn’t have done that to him, but they were aware he was spiraling and trying their best to ask how he was doing without being obtrusive. Brock managed to push them back into talking about their vacation, it wasn’t their job to worry, they already did that over TJ, he was not a priority. Natasha kept tabs on him but was less intrusive than anyone else, he tried to see TJ a little more, to be around someone that didn’t realize things and kept the pressure off him. But he did struggle to find some release, to find something that might get the deeply settled ache in his chest to dull for even a moment.

The following week was easier, if only a little. Brock thrust himself into intensive training, and forced himself to go that extra mile and push that little bit more so he could clinch a win for himself and prove that despite the pain, he’d get through it successfully. Natasha had started to worry he was overworking himself, low key begging and eventually physically showing up at the gym to get him to go home, to rest his sore muscles and get some sleep. Realistically Brock knew he couldn’t carry on with naps throughout the day and willing himself to press through fatigue indefinitely, but he needed to reroute his mind, needed to focus on the bigger picture so he wasn’t hurting so much.

It felt good to spar with a partner or punch the sand, use his hands for something, and keep moving around, have his mind focused solely on all of that instead of replaying everything over and over in his head or wondering about what Jack was doing right then. Sometimes, when his energy was spent and he needed to take a rest, towel draped over his head, his breath caught in an odd way and he appreciated how loud the music blared out across perched speakers so no one noticed the way he had to stop himself from breaking down, the sweat hiding a chance at tears and he’d lock himself in the bathroom to give himself a minute before returning to start his routine up again.

The tail end of the week was better, it had began to numb for him. He found a balance by then without sending Natasha into a rarely seen fit, and keeping his coach’s blood pressure down, it also meant he wasn’t lining himself up for some kind of heart attack either. He was maybe a little depressed, it didn’t mean he was suicidal. He knew by the looks people were giving him around the gym that he was getting there much too quickly so it was good for them too anyway, they already figured he was having some sort of break, he wasn’t in the mood for anyone to try to figure he needed an intervention for it. It was just that he had to win, he had to wipe the floor with his opponent and didn’t want them to have a chance to even get an upper hand, a chance to turn it around. He wanted to show everyone he could do it, whether they knew or not what  _ it _ even was, it was going to be  _ his _ night, a chance to rise out from the ashes and make himself whole again.

Even with all that though, a lofty goal he knew at the back of his mind he would get to, he still wasn’t at ease. He felt like a new man with the way he was overworking himself, like he may burn out before the end but he was going to get those results he wanted faster than before. His sparring trainer said nothing, but kept a sharp eye on him, gruff voice telling him to stop when he had to with a more tighter quip to it and Brock let himself listen..for the most part.

“Brock.” Masters cut sharp into his thoughts. “Come back later, go take a breather.”

“M’fine.” He quickly shot back, but Tony had already gone across the room, back to him and approaching some other guys. His word had always been law with Brock and he dropped his head down as he stripped away his gloves with a haggard sigh, the blur in his vision clearing away much too slowly.

When Brock was changed, he gave an absent gesture of a wave over his shoulder to anyone looking his way, knowing at least that Tony was without bothering to check before he slipped out the door. Back at home he crumpled onto his couch and pulled out his phone, mulling through it before getting to his emails.

When he saw Bucky’s name appear on the screen, his mind wasn’t thinking too clearly to read what the subject was marked as, instead he immediately opened the message to see what he had to say and froze up when the brightly colored picture loaded up quickly on his screen.

It was a picture of Bucky and Steve from the wedding. They were arm in arm, dancing together on the middle of the little dance floor together and staring into each other’s eyes like no one else existed besides them. The image exuded so much deep love that it was a little overpowering; below it was a quick thank you message to everyone in their wedding party, for being there for them through it all and that they were all missed while on their honeymoon together still.  


That wasn’t what caused Brock a loss of air, it was what was going on in the far back of the dance floor. Jack holding him in his arms when he had rested his head on his shoulder that night. Neither had any idea a photographer had taken a picture of them and Jack looked so _happy_, so content in that frozen moment, his face holding a smile Brock could barely see because most of it was hidden away, buried deep into his hair like they couldn’t bear to be away from each other. Brock had forgotten most of that, he’d worked so hard to, didn’t want to remember how it felt when Jack had pressed a kiss into his hair and there he was in the image, face pressed into it. It all flooded back in one swift strike.

With his foot resting against the edge of the coffee table, Brock gave it a hard shove away from him as he scrambled to stand back on his feet, storming towards the front door. He needed to get out of here, he needed to hit something, break something and get himself away from the sensation of Jack cradling him in his arms. He wanted to forget the touch of his skin and how gentle he was with him, the pressure of his lips and the scrape of his beard along his neck. He didn’t want to remember any of it, didn’t want to be reminded of how Jack made hollow commitments just so he could run off once more.

He found himself stumbling into a kitchen chair, his hip striking into the marble countertop before he crumpled to the ground onto his knees.   


And then he was anger and fury.

He pounded the floor with his fists, his eyes blinded by hot tears and he was in a hazy blur, his lungs on fire from the apparent screams he’d been allowing to finally escape from deep inside his chest.

_ He had it. _

His blind rage toppled the glass coffee table, shards scattering across the dark wood like bits of diamond; he turned to lift his flatscreen television from off the stand and it collided into the wall across the room, smashing rows of framed photographs in its wake as well as the screen. It was so easy after that, to not think about anything and to erupt into a madness he’d held back for too long. There was no order to the mess, an explosion of glass and splintered wood covered the floor; frames, his trophies, things he collected for himself, never to be recovered again.

He was going to loathe himself for it afterwards but right then he didn’t care at all, no knowledge anymore of what was in his hands before he was breaking it, even the sounds of what was happening came to his ears anymore over the shouts of primal anger. His foot struck something and he barely even registered pain, it was the same way with his fists and his body was soon protesting despite him not paying close attention. All he wanted was to let it all go and he had no choice on the matter whether he wanted to or not, so much of his pain stayed hidden for too long and now he was releasing it tenfold.

The sheer betrayal of Jack leaving the one last time only sank in deeper and deeper the further he pushed on, he’d tried to hide it, to bury it like everything else, to drink it away or pound at the punching bag, if it was extra bad, he was known to bury his face in his pillow and release body shaking sobs because he couldn’t hold them back any longer. He’d lost control of it.

At some point he was back on the floor, pressed against the wall underneath his front window with his knees to his chest and his head bowed forward. He’d found himself away from the sea of glass and chaos but his entire body trembled from exhaustion, mildly aware that his knuckles were dripping with blood and that every physical strike he took was suddenly a very painful outcome from his outburst.

Between bloody fingers was a picture of Jack, back when they’d graduated, all fresh faced and eager to take over the world, his arm slung around Brock’s neck as he pulled him in to smother a hard kiss into his already messy hair. It was surreal and candid, the one picture of them together he could never get rid of, hidden between the pages of a book that no one knew was one of Jack’s that he’d forgotten to take with him when he left him and so Brock had thought it was rather appropriate that he could keep it there without his friends noticing.

He let the picture slip from his fingers and his head dropped down again. It was how he stayed until he heard the sound of the door open, the back of his mind reminding him he’d forgotten to lock it and he looked up only to see equal looks of startled shock and disbelief between Natasha, Pepper and TJ.

“Oh no, Brock! Oh no! Did you get a robber? You’re hurt!” TJ’s voice wobbled, displaced from all the chaos and mess.

“M’fine Teej, I’m fine..” He trailed off, his head feeling light and dizzy. He dropped his eyes away towards the floor, he couldn’t bear looking at any of them any longer.

Brock barely heard a pair of hurried steps, then suddenly TJ dropped down, his arms thrown around him. It was what broke him, a choked sob escaping as he gathered TJ up in his arms and held on to him as tight as he could possibly manage.

Seconds after, heels appeared in his line of sight and Pepper knelt down beside him. TJ allowed him to hold on and he felt her hand softly brush along the back of his hair which only made his body sigh at the touch and cry harder. She didn’t say anything and he appreciated it, nothing she would have said could have soothed him right then.

Soon Natasha was at his other side, she didn’t offer any affection like the other two but he could feel her eyes on him, not uncomfortable or intrusive, just there, observing him and he got that as well. It wasn’t until a few minutes passed before he realized he’d smeared his blood into TJ’s clothes and onto the seemingly brand new white pantsuit Pepper had on.

“Don’t even think about apologizing.” She interrupted as he lifted his head to really look over at it.

He and TJ sat on the floor of his living room, still to the side and away from all the glass, both quiet and not speaking, like TJ knew it was what he needed right then, for him just to be close. All the while Natasha and Pepper began to clean up in silence, but not before Pepper assured him that he’d find peace, that she was sure of that. He knew she wasn’t responsible for that, that maybe she cared a lot, but she couldn’t be sure and the situation wasn’t something that could be easily fixed.

TJ carefully handled Brock’s hands when he told him that Sam was teaching how to learn first aid. He had a backpack of things he carried around with him that had dinosaurs emblazoned on them and out came a tiny lunch box that was a makeshift kit. Brock would have chuckled at how efficient TJ was if he wasn’t so lost in his own head, flinching just slightly to the snap of rubber gloves TJ pulled on as he recited rules on how to tend to wounds just like he would have been taught.   


Brock was pliant, staring off into nothing, the blur of two bodies moving around his small place as TJ cleaned away the blood with a gentle solution of warm water and soap that Natasha brought over for him and a clean handcloth. Once his knuckles were patted dry, ointment was applied and then some sterile gauze, before a roll of bandage was out and his entire hand was wrapped up tight and secure. Usually he would have said it was overkill but he knew he would be fighting in a few days and he probably needed any assistance for his split knuckles now rather than have them get worse later.

“There you go, Brock! You’re not broken anymore!” TJ smiled happily, closing his kit, carefully tucking it away back into his backpack.

Brock burst into something that was a mix between laughter and a sob at the remark, unable to help himself and how fucked up he was, pulling TJ in for another tight hug so he could bury his face away again.

Hours passed before he stumbled back to reality. Someone had managed to get him onto his feet, despite how uneven and nauseated he was feeling and tucked him into bed. He didn’t even know how tired and exhausted he was, losing the rest of the day and it was late into the evening before he even considered getting out of his nest of blankets, too wrapped up in embarrassment and unhappiness to bother seeing what was really going on in his living room.

Later he was drowning under more blankets, but this time he was on the couch and staring blankly at the brand new television screen Pepper had apparently bought for him. She had left before he could even tell her to take it back, much larger and mounted securely to the wall, all his other personal items put back in place and all the glass was cleaned up. There was a new coffee table, a black wood now and it seemed to fit well. Even Jack’s book had returned to the shelf, though he was too afraid to look and see if the picture was there still, but somehow he had a feeling it was and that he didn’t actually conceal his secret as well as he thought he did.

TJ was bundled up next to him, already asleep as the tail end of the Wedding Singer played. Brock didn’t know if romcoms were the right choice at the moment but Disney or any family movies would have given him a headache and anything else just didn’t seem worth remembering if it needed censoring from TJ. At least he’d already seen the movie playing thanks to Bucky so it was easy to put on, though TJ was adamant they watch Clueless too. How he knew Brock had it already, he didn’t know.

“Maybe after your prize fight, you should really take some serious time off.” Natasha stated bluntly, eating a handful of popcorn. She sat at his other side next to Clint as Lucky laid over their laps all snuggled up and drifting in and out of sleep.

Brock flexed his hands slightly in response, feeling the bandages stretch across his skin. His body was still tired, sleep not completely gone and he dropped his head back against the couch, his eyes easing closed.   


“Went to Fiji, didn’t I?” He threw back her way, not really in the mood for discussion on the matter.

Natasha was silent, but she passed Clint the bowl of popcorn so she could reach out and uncurl his hands, stopping him from irritating his knuckles anymore. He exhaled tiredly and spread his fingers out, pressing them along his blanket instead. He forgot that no matter how much it seemed like she wasn’t paying attention, she always was.

Finally Natasha looked him straight in the eye as if she was meeting a challenge head on. “You definitely  _ did not  _ take a break in Fiji.”

Brock laughed, humorless and strained. He had to still be in some sort of nightmare that he was going to wake up from very soon, he hoped and waited. Wished he never saw Jack all over again so that he could try and continue to mend instead of tearing himself apart once more.

“I saw your face in Times Square this morning.” Natasha informed him. “TJ said you looked like a superhero, he was excited to call you and tell you all about it, but we decided in person would be better. I still don’t get why you and that other guy had to look so oily though, I mean you look good but still.”

Brock turned to stare at her expression a long moment before he felt he couldn’t hold it back anymore, her arm going around him before he buried his face into her shoulder, suppressing away the sob fighting to come out.

*****

Brock only had a few days before his big fight card. Mostly he was back to being focused and driven again once he took the day off to recover and reflect. He managed to get his shit together before there were any concerned conversation on having to break contract, unsure if his mental state would have been a benefit or a problem out in front of thousands of people. If he did do it, it would have been something he wouldn’t have been sure he’d forgive himself for.

He saw a lot more of Pepper than he’d ever had within a week’s period, coming in and out whenever she had a chance to and managed to get him to one of the best therapists in the city. At first he was defensive about it, but eventually he allowed himself to ease up and took the first steps to meeting up with them; he found it weirdly helpful and an oddly positive experience. He managed to sleep better too, work out without tempting fate into giving him a random heart attack, and Natasha decided to move in for a few days with Clint, Lucky and TJ all in tow like they were having a sleepover on a long weekend. Even Steve and Bucky wanted time to sit down with him, just to talk and see how he was whenever their nightly call to TJ happened. All the changes made it harder for Brock to be trapped in his head, more than before when he first arrived where he could hide it, he forced himself to talk things out when he wouldn’t normally, be distracted with his friends instead of thinking about Jack and what he was doing, or dwelling on what happened between them in Fiji. Natasha being closer also meant he was eating better, he maintained weight but he knew since he came back to New York his diet was nothing like it should have been and he was only pulling himself down with the damage. She got him back in order and designed meal plans they could all follow together as the supportive family unit they were, and Brock was grateful for all of them.

Obviously, he was aware that none of it was going to magically fix the situation in his head. That he wasn’t sure how much of his broken heart was a mental health issue and if it had just been dormant while Jack was there being some kind of crutch. But there was hope, a new kind of hope that gave Brock the motivation he didn’t have before. He used his close friends as open journals and was a lot more honest about thoughts on his break up than he ever was in the past two years before. Sure, he was hurting yeah, but now he had a salve to ease it and he worked on getting through it. For once in his life he wasn’t bottling everything in and waiting for it to explode like a powder keg. This time he could see just how unhealthy it really was and the marks on the wall that Pepper couldn’t disguise with new paint or furniture was a reminder of that.

Oddly on the day of the fight, he woke up with a strange peace that he was unsure of, but the closer he neared event time and how his whole evening would have been spent hyping everything up until the last minute, he was more comfortable instead of nervous. It was weird, he’d always had some level of unease but today there was none of it, like he was finally breaking the water’s surface after being submerged for far too long.   


It had been two and a half weeks since he last spoke to Jack, and maybe he was jumping the gun a little but focusing on himself and not on him became easier and easier with so many positive coping mechanisms at his fingertips that he had but never utilized. He was starting to feel like a new person.

Sometimes though, Brock caught himself stumbling into a memory that they shared, especially when it was a particularly fond one. It was difficult to decipher what he wanted to see and what was reality with Jack, but he was managing. More than anything, Brock wanted to move on like he had been once forced to do..somewhat. This time around though, he was going to make sure he made all the necessary changes to make it concrete.

The arena was sold out and it was everything he could ever imagine like back when he was still a newbie and had no idea how to go about even trying out. Sure, he had a lot of high end fights the past year but this was a whole new level for him. From the town car’s tinted windows, he excitedly watched thousands of people milling into the building and it was always like he was on another planet. It wasn’t just him stepping up into the big leagues, a handful of others were right there with him, and it was an honor to meet men and a handful of tough women he’d looked up to while also mingling with up-and-comer fighters just like himself.   


His coach sat next to him, his fist lightly giving his shoulder a punch and Brock didn’t look back, still in awe of seeing hoards of people and he knew he was never going to get over it. “You got this tonight, Brock.”

Brock nodded. Masters was right and always was; it was a thing with him and Brock never really saw a reason to argue it so he never did. Tony made sense, Brock had his own brand, his own image to uphold and he was real fucking good. It all came together with his odds and he felt like he was ready for anything.

They got in through the side and around to the back loading area, full access press already taking pictures and he gave a proud smile for every flash coming his way, his entourage flanking to surround him once they were out of the second vehicle that had been following behind.

Brock suddenly addressed so many people so quickly that it was becoming a blur to him, as much as it should have been some kind of worry to slow down, he couldn’t, glad-handing and greeting anyone that had been trying to get into a conversation with him. Still, he was happy when Phil approached him with a small discreet smile and was ending all the interactions with a quick reroute of security, pulling him aside to a less crowded area to sit down and let Brock relax a little.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, unscrewing the top of a water bottle he was offered and taking a healthy sip.

“That’s what your manager is here for, to manage things.” Coulson said with another small smile in that knowing way and Brock rolled his eyes at him. “One day you’ll laugh at that joke.”

“Fat chance.” Brock shot back, despite a corner of his lip going up just because he really did like Phil, just not his weird jokes.

“One day."

“Maybe.” He tossed back.

Leaning against the leather back chair and carding a hand through his hair absently, Brock still had a few hours before he was even remotely due to be out there, but he could already hear the heavy bass of music and the roar of a building crowd gathering into their seats for the warmup acts to get everyone going.

There was a bank of screens in the room, just random cameras panning guests already sitting down and other shots in the atriums. He startled the first time he saw someone taller than most people in the crowd, someone with dark hair and that trick of his eye where he thought there was a scar no matter how impossible to see that detail really was. He snapped himself out of it and was immediately angry for even seeing that tonight, but no matter how many times he looked, he saw Jack out there, mingling in somewhere. Brock couldn’t help himself whenever he tried to shift his attention to where he supposedly saw him, only to know he wasn’t really there. It just wasn’t fair.

As time went on though and there were only a few minutes before the event would start, something familiar caught Brock’s gaze and he pushed himself onto his feet, startling Tony and Phil and everyone else around him in the room. He hurried towards one of the large screens he’d been fixated on to make sure this time around his eyes weren’t playing a game with him.

There was Jack. Pulling out a bill from his brown battered leather wallet that Brock had surprised him with ages ago for Christmas. It had Jack’s initials leather stamped on it (which obviously he couldn’t see right then but he  _ knew  _ that wallet) and at the time Brock had never felt prouder in his life.

Staggering backwards, Brock bumped into Masters behind him. Their eyes met when he turned his head and Tony shook his head, clearly trying to get him to forget about seeing Jack just then.

Brock tried to hide a lot of his surprise and confusion to Jack being here, here in the same building as him dressed in nice but comfortable looking clothes. Clearly he just wanted to blend in and not be caught out anywhere, but Brock wasn’t going to be able to let go that his past was now there and it was obviously no coincidence. No way Jack would have just wandered off the street after being randomly given a ticket, even if that happened, he was sure Jack knew very well that Brock was in the top billings. He was here knowing full well who he’d see and Brock had no idea what his game was, all he knew was after two and a half weeks of nothing, not even a text, he was suddenly right there before his very eyes.

When his gaze strayed back to that specific screen, Jack was long gone and Brock felt gutted inside. Of course he did, because once again, Jack didn’t even have to be in the same room to ruin his whole mood but he still managed to do it so easily and no one would be the wiser for it.

Brock shook his head and it was then he realized Tony was saying something to him, but he didn’t catch it. The grip on his arm was firm and he nodded automatically because he was pretty sure he already knew what it was. That he was in charge, not Jack and to remember that. Brock was in full agreement. Tonight, he told himself, was not about Jack. Tonight was about what he could do out there in front of thousands and thousands of people on his own merit. He wasn’t going to let the man that broke his heart be in charge of the situation ever again.

“Brock?” Phil’s voice broke into his train of thought.

Brock looked away from the bank of screens and to his manager watching him closely, all serious and full of business, making sure of course he wasn’t going to fall apart any second now. It was hard to really notice when Phil Coulson was worried and it had taken Brock a good year to actually realize when he did, right then he definitely was.

“M’fine, Coulson. Jus a little surprised, that’s all.”

Phil thumbed over his shoulder towards the screen. “Was that really Jack out there? You know, if he’s a nuisance for you we can have hi- ”

Brock shook his head quickly, dragging a hand down his face at the mere idea of getting him removed. It was a nice idea, but he didn’t want to interact with Jack, no matter how indirect it was. “Ain’t gotta kick ‘im out on my account. S’fine, not like m’gonna see him afterwards.”

It seemed to satisfy Phil enough to leave him alone, he only received one close look over before he did and Brock gestured at him to go away. He sighed to himself and turned finally to look at Tony, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze.

“C’mon, help me get some stretches started, I need a fuckin’ distraction before I really wonder about what the hell’s goin’ on around ‘ere.”

Tony chuckled as he nodded in agreement. “Sure, are you going to try one of those meditation things you mentioned before?”

“Maybe, think it’ll work?”

“Guess there’s a first time for everything, Brock.”

*****

By the time Brock was out in the middle of the ring and hearing the cheers of the crowd, he was somewhere else mentally. He’d long forgotten about the fact that Jack would be watching somewhere out there, he didn’t care and it didn’t occur to him anymore to remember that he was. He only did what he did best and gave it his all, taking the punches and dishing them out. His opponent was good, better than he predicted but he had too many weak points for Brock to take full advantage of and it was what he did in the end, barely able to see through one eye and blood dripping off the cut across his cheek, he was slightly swaying as his arms were forced up and he was deafened by the roar contained inside the building. The lights were so damn bright and he winced at every extra step he took, circling the ring before he was escorted away and finally, _ finally  _ he let himself smile as he dropped himself down on the locker room bench, his forearm slick was sweat, pushing back his damp hair. He barely registered the private party exploding around him, he was busy retrieving his phone and texting everyone that had been able to watch him fight. He only felt like he was mouth deep in a thick vat of molasses and letting the world around him run forward hearing himself decline invites to go out and party before he could even try to register anything coming at him fully. All he really had in mind was a long, hot shower and the embrace of a warm bed.  


He had fought hard for this, battled demons in his head and he still came out strong; it was going to open bigger and better doors for him and he really was proud of himself. He could celebrate tomorrow with his friends the only family worth a damn besides his Nonna, who he’d have to make sure to call when he had a quiet moment away, he’d bring together his gym crew and everyone else in the middle too.   


Changing as quickly as he could, Brock forced everyone to keep going in his honor, the main event match up was just beginning and a good way for him to sneak out before anyone outside of the locker room area caught sight of him. He really should have stayed, would have loved to watch the big ticket fight up close, but Brock felt beat down and too tired. He was patched up and cabs would be lined around the arena, some even lingered near the security post for the back entry and he really just wanted to take advantage of getting home without a hitch to have some free time to himself.  


The longer he walked, his duffle bag slung on his shoulder dressed in his sweats with his long coat pulled over, the more Jack began to seep into his head. He thought again about how his ex had a set of balls on him to show up to the arena, acting as if Brock wasn’t even in the main event in the first place and it was just by sheer luck that they were at the same place at the same time. He couldn’t bear to even think of what he thought of his match, knowing before that Jack always had a level of disdain with the people he used to fight before, said they weren’t worth his time. He slightly wondered if he still thought that. A part of him wished he knew where Jack was so he could confront him, but then he kept walking along, glad to get a move on as snowflakes began falling from grey cloudy skies causing the night to become darker than it already was.

Exiting past the security checkpoint, Brock was disappointed that this time around there were no lingering cabs awaiting a quick pick up and he bundled himself tighter in his coat with the aim to walk around the sidewalk and find the nearest one he could. He was so focused he barely registered the figure loitering near the mouth of a truck tunnel running parallel to the walkway.

“Brock.” A voice called anxiously from behind him as Brock’s hurried steps hesitated a moment before he stopped entirely, fear slowly overcoming as he turned around.

Jack stood there, his hands shoved deep into his leather jacket pockets, shivering and clearly he’d been waiting for him directly after his match, cheeks bright red from the cold. He looked like he didn’t know what his next plan of action was but the way he looked so inept for the incoming snowfall was enough to make Brock want to approach and make sure he was going to be okay.

He hated himself for being like that, he didn’t owe Jack anything and he was mad at himself for not immediately turning on him like he’d always done to him.

He couldn’t do this, there was no way. Not on  _ his  _ night, this wasn’t fair. He turned back the other way and began to walk again, faster than usual.

“Brock.” Jack called again, but Brock pressed his lips together and continued walking. He could hear footsteps follow after him.

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Brock.”  


Jack was much too close, Brock cursing the long strides catching up to him and he tried to ignore the feeling of Jack’s fingertips brushing against his elbow as he reached for him in some attempt to get him to stop. He only wrenched his arm forward, ripping it from Jack’s grasp.   


Brock was nearing the mouth of main streets and there were still many people about, exploring shops and bars. He aimed to head towards the largest group in hopes he could lose him in the crowd.

“Brock _please_.” Jack tried one last time, voice pleading and there was a painful desperation to it.

He tried to drown Jack out the best he could, but it wasn’t working.

“Brock- ”

“Is that yer fuckin’ aim fer tonight?” Brock snapped out abruptly, whipping his head back to glare at Jack. “Callin’ my name out over and over again so it drives me fuckin’ off the Brooklyn Bridge? Huh?”

Jack looked horrified at the mere idea as he stopped before they ended up colliding into one another. A twinge of guilt struck Brock and he wondered if he should have even said anything. He began walking again, shoving his hands into his coat pockets but he stopped speeding away and Jack fell in beside him.

“I’m s-sorry, I couldn’t- ” Jack made a pained sound. “You d-don’t know how sorry I am, I mean it.”

His voice was shaking, clearly upset and unhappy, that Brock picked up immediately, then his stuttering only seemed to make the situation worse for him on top of it. Brock forced himself to stop analyzing and processing, everything Jack did was for his own benefit, never for him. The only thing Jack was sorry for was not going all the way with him when he had the chance one last fucking time.

“I-I know I fucked up, I just c-c-cou- ” Jack punched at his thigh in frustration and Brock wanted to wince, _to save Jack like always_. He didn’t. “I fucked up, I was o-overwhelmed. You scared me and I wondered if I was m-making it all up in my head, t-that we didn’t really enjoy each other so much like I was t-thinking we did.”

Brock would have stopped and fucking laughed in Jack’s face if he wasn’t hellbent on shaking his ex-boyfriend off his trail. He knew there’d be waiting cabs two blocks down by the subway station and he worked his way over. He wished he didn’t leave the arena on foot, wanted to stop listening to Jack come back to him like a begging mutt in hopes to fuck with his heart some more.

“J-just please, just listen to me, let me explain.” Jack pressed, misery in his voice as Brock continued to ignore him.

Brock was on the crosswalk trying his best not to barrel himself through the oncoming crowd and start something else he wasn’t willing to deal with right then, as he stepped onto the curb he heard the sound of a grunt past his shoulder. He turned to see Jack and another person stepping onto the curb and away from the cars much too close to each other.

“S-sorry.” Jack mumbled to a man in a dark coat who was holding a coffee and patting his front with a wad of napkins. “I-I was trying to g-get- ”

“What the hell’s your problem? Couldn’t you fucking see where you were going or are you just retarded?”

Jack was tugging at his ear, clearly distressed and Brock’s mouth pressed into a hard line.

“S-sorry I didn’t mean to hit you, l-let me- ”

“Le-let me-me, wh-what, retard? What’re you gonna do to fix this mess?”

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that!” A woman suddenly shouted out from the tiny crowd that had formed around them.

Brock’s anger flared, and instinct set in before he was thinking, throwing himself in between Jack and the other guy, purposefully knocking the rest of the man’s coffee onto the street and it splashed across their shoes. The situation reminded him of when they were kids, sure Jack could hold his own, but he was also good at ignoring taunts until it really pissed him off; the only times Brock saw him react aggressively toward people was when it came to TJ, then Brock was the one trying to keep him from going to jail. But here right now, for Brock, this was his Achilles and always was.

“He ain’t a retard, ya don’t say shit like that!” Brock insisted, dropping his bag at Jack’s feet before he was giving the man a hard shove backwards. “But ya sure are a fuckin’ asshole for thinkin’ dumb shit like that. If ya feel like pickin’ on someone, then you can pick on me. I’m always ready to give out an ass kickin’ to dicks like you.”

“Brock. Let it go.” Jack’s hand grabbed at his shoulder when the stranger only reacted by scooting backwards, right into a pair of onlookers behind him. He clearly had no plans to start a fight with someone that already looked like his face has been in a little bit of punch up, and Brock was a little disappointed that the guy lost all his bravado so quick.

As fast as the crowd appeared, it dispersed, the random woman that had yelled out in Jack’s defense picked up Brock’s bag and gave Jack a soft smile. Jack only gave her one back as he took the bag from her and she gave his arm a squeeze before walking in the opposite direction.

“Are ya fuckin’ okay?” Brock asked as he took his duffle bag and replaced it back on his shoulder.

“Brock, I- ”

He couldn’t look Jack dead in the eyes. “I said, are ya fuckin’ okay?”

“Y-yeah, m’fine..thanks.”

“Good, ‘cause I never wanna see ya ever again.” Brock announced, avoiding looking everywhere but at Jack’s face.

“You don’t mean that.” Jack whispered, shaking his head.

“Never.” Brock said, purposefully making his voice as neutral as possible.

Jack’s bottom lip trembled slightly when Brock finally looked up at him to see why he wasn’t speaking and he didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. He went to step forward, but caught himself, lingering in a weird limbo of sorts. There was something in Jack’s gaze, something urgent and desperate but Brock was so tired of all this, he had no more energy left.

“Brock.” Jack hitched. “_Please_.”

Brock shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling his eyes away from that face. All these people around him and all he felt was this loneliness. He looked onto the street, watching the cars going past and he imagined himself driving far far away from here and escaping Jack forever.

“I don’t know what ya want from me.” Brock admitted with a small shrug.

“I’m sorry.” Jack repeated, his voice strained to keep composure.

All Brock could do was laugh, holding himself and letting it go in disbelief. There was just _ too much  _ wrapped in the enigma that was Jack and he couldn’t deal with it at all. He shook his head, hand going up in an attempt to stop Jack from saying anything more, not that it mattered.

“I-I just- ” Jack began, his eyes darting around as if in search for the right words.

“It’s too fuckin’ late.” Brock bit out coldly, his throat felt sore as he tried to hide the way he felt his hands shaking.

Jack stared at him, drawing back slightly and Brock could already see the wheels turning in his head, processing things and making an attempt at figuring out some way to get around it. Jack liked solving puzzles, and maybe he assumed this was a big one for him.

Brock still didn’t know why exactly he even decided to track him down tonight of all nights when he had two and a half weeks to do it and get a hold of him. Not like it was that hard either. Was he forever burdened with Jack trying to insert himself into his life? Would he have to leave the state? Jack was the one who broke his heart in two different countries, he had no right to try and say sorry, he couldn’t even write a note before jumping on a plane and running off like the fucking coward he was.

“No..” Jack trailed off. “T-this can’t be the end. I.._no_\- ” He repeatedly shook his head as he was thinking about Brock’s words. “We can’t- ”

“You did this!” Brock suddenly shouted out in anger. All his walls exploded into mere dust with those three words, and every fragment of bitterness he harbored shifted into pain, his eyes glossing over. Tears immediately began to run down his flushed face as embarrassment struck him and he wished his voice didn’t waver just at the tail end. “ _ You _ lied.  _ You _ destroyed everythin’! This is all yer fuckin’ fault, Jack!”

He couldn’t believe how much work he’d gone through, how hard he tried, even if it was still new to him and yet so easily, Jack had resorted him to tears once again. He wasn’t allowed to do this anymore, to expose him like this and laugh in his face over how easy it was. He had no right to make Brock feel like no matter what he did, he was going to sink deeper still into the quicksand.

“You promised.” Brock whispered pathetically, the tears flowing with no way to stop them as they both stood on the sidewalk at the side of a corner cafe, beneath an awning protecting them from the falling snow.   


Rage took over briefly the more he thought about things and he glared at green eyes staring back at him. “You promised! Maybe ya never said it outright but ya fuckin’ indicated it so don’t act like ya didn’t or that m’crazy. You lied! Said ya weren’t gonna leave!”

Brock couldn’t help shouting; his sore, aching hands clenched into tight fists and he wanted so badly just to punch him in the face.

It was only made worse when Jack said nothing in return, had nothing to offer to diffuse his frustration and anger, and Brock bodily brushed past him with a hard hit against his side. Jack seemed to only react when he was stepping away, making another attempt to grab at his arm but Brock yanked it away from him, picking up his pace to get home before it really started to snow. This time, he didn’t hear footsteps coming after him.

He hastily wiped at his eyes, trying to sniffle as little as possible. Another bit of resentment came in, how he still so badly wanted to turn around and welcome Jack back to him with open arms. He knew he would have been at his happiest just to be held by him, and promised everything under the sun, to be loved by the one person he cared so deeply for and to be told that their past was a mistake that would never come back again. Jack wasn’t following him this time though, and he knew in his heart, it was the right decision for his well being.

“Brock, please!” Jack shouted over the engines of cars and the chatter of people walking by, a far distance away but still clear to him.

Brock wondered if that was going to be the words that haunt him, of Jack sounding lost and desperate. He was close to the subway and soon he’d be able to jump into a cab and get away once and for all. Then he’d be safe at home, he’d bolt up the door, climb under the covers and cry himself to sleep after he talked himself into looking forward to a brand new day.

He could hear Jack’s hurried footsteps behind him now, trying to catch up and Brock pressed his lips tight together.

There was no way he could allow Jack back in, he wasn’t going to allow it and his old feelings were just that, old feelings. He tried to ignore how much Jack pleaded and begged for him to stop, how desperate he was to have him listen. None of it was his concern anymore and if he wanted something better for himself, he had to let him go.

“B-Brock.” Jack cried out, his voice shrill and strained.

Brock felt himself hesitate, wondering if that was how he sounded like to Jack, if he even felt anything even remotely similar to the ache in Brock’s own chest. There was no way he could, it was impossible. He shouldered his duffle bag more securely and carried on walking.

A bank of cabs sat idle along the curb before the station and Brock was relieved to be in the home stretch, that it hurt to be around Jack, and it was equally painful trying to escape him. He just wanted to be out of his vicinity and have some peace on his celebratory night.

It didn’t take long for Jack to catch up, his rapid footsteps slowing down to keep a regular pace but stayed wisely behind him.

“I love you.” Jack panted out as he tried to catch his breath again. “I know I don’t d-deserve anything from you, not a single thing, b-but I have to tell you, Brock. I need to tell you how much I l-love you, how much I’ve missed you.”

Brock was so close to getting away and there was an urgency to act upon it. He heard Jack wetly inhale behind him and instead of approaching the closest cab, he slowly came to a stop, dropping his head forward in dismay over himself.

“I thought I would die the l-last time I saw you.” Jack admitted softly. “You gave so easily and it s-scared me. I didn’t think I c-c-co- ” He sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think I’d be able to t-take on such a responsibility loving you, if I m-messed it up and lost you. Brock, when I left t-two years ago, I never knew just how deep in l-love with you I was. Nothing could compare to t-that hole in my heart for you.”

Brock immediately turned around to face Jack, his jaw clenched so tightly he was afraid he was going to break teeth. He narrowed his eyes, glaring sharply at this man who was playing the damn victim when he was the one who broke his heart time and time again, left it in on the floor in so many pieces that Brock wondered if it was ever going to feel any kind of deep love with another person ever again.

“Don’t you fuckin’ _dare_. There ain’t ever been a point where  _ you  _ lost _me_!  _ Yer _ the asshole that walked out the door of our apartment two years ago without even battin’ an eye about it.” Brock spat out, his voice threatening to crack. “You _ promised _ we’d be together fer the rest of our lives, Jack! Do ya remember, ‘cause I sure as hell fuckin’ do. Instead you left me, like I didn’t matter, like I was _nothin’_.”  


Jack stared back at him, and for the first time ever, Brock realized how shallow his cheeks looked, almost gaunt. His eyes were red and a little puffy, perfect hair currently in disarray. It was like he barely slept since he returned to New York.

“When we were together, I w-was holding you back, Brock. Y-you were content with what you were d-doing, being on the lowest rung in the circuit but you were d-destined for more than that. You had so much p-potential to get what you wanted, _what you deserved_. But with me in the p-picture, that wasn’t going to happen. You were happy as long as I was t-there to catch you, I didn’t m-mind but it ate away at me that I was responsible for t-that.”

Brock chewed at his bottom lip, struck by the truth of why Jack left. Never in a million years did he think that would have been why and it made him angry. Angry that he had no say on the matter and that it was absolutely stupid to have even gone through with it. Yes, he was content with Jack, and maybe he didn’t try as hard as he could have, but Jack was all he’d wanted in life at that time. It wasn’t fair.

“Did ya even try..say, talkin’ to me about it?”

Jack nodded. “Numerous t-times, I tried. You always had to get away before it got too serious or you said you were t-trying your best and I hoped you were being honest with me.”

Brock wasn’t. He knew that the moment it left Jack’s mouth. He only wanted to be home, with Jack, too dependent on him instead of bettering his career. Still, it hurt so much. “I deserved a fuckin’ choice, Jack.”

“Brock, not giving you one c-clearly worked out for the better. Tonight and all your other nights are p-proof of that. You’ve never been better, people notice you and want to t-take a picture, fans want your autograph, you get paid a hell of a lot more than you used to. You’re a star and that’s always been what you d-deserved. If it meant I stay out of your way to do it, then I’m w-willing to let everyone else have your attention.”

“It’s stupid.”

Jack paused. “Why?”

“I’ve only ever wanted yer attention, Jack. All this fightin’ shit, it wasn’t endgame fer me, yeah maybe I’m good at it but I was willin’ to try out other things if it still meant we work together as a couple. In yer grand fuckin’ plan fer me, ya stopped givin’ a shit about what I needed, fer what? A steady income? Fuck that.”

Brock stepped in closer into Jack’s space, shaking his head at him. “Ya never loved me, you jus didn’t wanna be burdened with bein’ my babysitter. I get it now, that you were jus toleratin’ shit, took me a long while to see it.”

Jack only stared at him, eyes slightly wide and his mouth slack in clear surprise. After a few seconds he was shaking his head and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, hands shifting around like he didn’t know what to exactly do with them right then. He reached into his pocket abruptly in his process, unlocking his phone before shoving it insistently into Brock’s hands.

On the screen was the picture from the wedding, the same picture that sent Brock into some sort of mental breakdown a few days ago. They were both together, slow dancing and Brock had always felt like they were lost in their own little world. The picture was centered in so that it was only the two of them in focus, like it was taken just for them and no one else just like Brock had felt his whole lifetime.

Brock instantly touched the screen, slid his finger to move it, as if the image was on a roll that only offered him previews and yet it didn’t, realizing it was set as a background. When he looked up, Jack was carefully examining not the phone but his hands, bruised and still red from the fight, the past memory came back of when he’d get home and Jack cleaned him up with ointment and fresh bandages so he felt secure Brock would be fine. He hated that it came in so fresh like it was only yesterday, hated that he still remembered.

“G-go into my picture folder.” Jack insisted, and as much as Brock didn’t want to he did. The most recent photos were pictures of Brock’s win tonight, his arm is raised in the air by the referee. More pictures of himself caught his eye, of him at various other fights he’d had and quickly realized that Jack was always there, watching them.

“I always showed up when you were already in or entering the ring so there was little chance of being seen by anyone we both knew. I didn’t want it getting back to you that I was seen there, looking like a stalker.” Jack looked shy, his posture going inward like he was insecure about admitting it. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Because he was curious, Brock looked at the other pictures he had, and the front shot of the bakery name caught his eye before swiping his finger to the next image of the interior. Exposed beams of dark wood sat overhead as glass globes surrounded hung bulbs just in front of large open bay windows and onyx slate countertops. There were glass display shelves of cakes and sweets, to the opposite end of the counter were savory dishes like a delicious looking quiche perched on a cake stand ready to serve. Olive oil sat on open shelves at the back and the rustic layout was tied together in a neat little bow with loaves of different breads nestled in large baskets tucked on each space of a large wood shelf near the front door.

Before he could look at it much longer, Jack took his phone back gently, clearly embarrassed. “I-it’s nothing.”

Brock looked up at him. “You chose my name idea?”

Jack laughed, albeit nervously. “Of course I did, I said I liked it. I w-wasn’t lying, that and- ” He paused, unsure of himself. “I’d always choose you, Brock. It s-sounds corny and I’ve tried not to, but I can’t help myself.”

“Jack, you named it _Every Bread You Take_.” Brock sucked in a breath. “Of course ya would. Ya already know it’s a song about a stalker, probably sounds fittin’.”

Shrugging, Jack stared at his phone. “I like it, others l-like it too. You liked it when I told you how c-clever it was. I always remembered it because it was your idea, b-because- ”

“You never loved me.” Brock reiterated, shaking off the brief feeling of flattery and amusement to remember the present.

“I’ve always loved you. I still do.” Jack implored. “Brock, loving you is the easiest thing in the world for me. I struggle to live without you, but I don’t want to mess this up.”

“I really meant everything I said after the w-wedding, when we were alone. I couldn’t get you out of m-my head.” Jack whispered softly, his voice cracking slightly. His eyes swept away, close enough to meet Brock’s gaze if he needed to but there seemed to be an unease in him and Brock assumed it was because they were talking at least a little. “I wanted to c-call you so badly, Brock. I w-wa-wa- ” He grit his teeth in frustration and Brock felt a pang of sympathy. “I just couldn’t get myself to do it, I k-kept thinking how stupid I’d sound after leaving without waking y-you up.”

Brock shook his head with a roll of his eyes, arms coming up to tightly fold across his chest. He didn’t want to think about what if’s and how things would have probably been better if they’d made contact instead of what they were doing now. Would it have mattered anyway? Two years could change a person, Jack was a business owner now, Brock’s face was plastered around the city while his agent was booking deals for him on the constant, they were different versions of themselves now.

“I’ve l-loved you from the moment I learned to breathe, Brock. I’ve always b-been in love with you, before I knew who you were. And then, when I actually laid my eyes on you, it only intensified to something I could barely contain and it began to c-consume me.” Jack admitted. “It never stopped. I _couldn’t_. I’ve always held a flame for you.”

It was hard for Brock, to juggle the emotions of loss, pain, anger and grief. To throw any ounce of happiness and whatever else in between, to hear Jack talking only made everything much more overwhelming. They stood so close that Brock could feel the heat radiating through Jack’s leather jacket, but he held back the urge to pull him tight to his body.

“I’m s-s-sorry I hurt you by leaving, it wasn’t my intention to do that to you, I only wanted what I thought was the best for you, and that only proved to be the worse way to show you how to be loved.” Jack’s voice wobbled slightly, so vulnerable and open. Brock couldn’t help but gasp quietly to the many cracks revealing themselves in Jack’s usually confident voice as he went on. Jack preemptively punched at his thigh in hopes to keep himself on track, old habits never dying. “I never wanted to hurt you again that night, Brock. I felt a lot of things, betraying you again wasn’t one of them.”

Brock felt his tears return, eyes welling up again as he tried hard to keep them at bay. It just wasn’t working the way he wanted, and he didn’t want Jack to take it as something he was winning at. He repeated over and over again in his head that nothing was going to repair the damage Jack had caused for leaving him without any warning, that he only made everything  _ worse _ by abandoning him that morning after the wedding leaving Brock to wake up alone and broken.

“You promised.” Brock reminded him slowly, his voice trembled, skated on the verge of something more..something he didn’t want to experience right there out in the middle of New York City.

A tear rolled down Jack’s cheek and Brock’s heart lurched, he couldn’t help himself as a hand tentatively reached up for Jack’s cheek, pausing just before he would have touched him, asking in silent permission and hesitating over what he really wanted as the snow swirled around them and the cold only dropped in temperature.

“I know.” Jack agreed, and looked to Brock with pleading eyes. “I don’t know if I can ever f-forgive myself for that.”

Jack leaned into his palm and it was too familiar of an instinct for Brock to mould his hand in and let his thumb trace the line of that scar just at Jack’s jaw that he knew so well.

“I t-tried forgetting about you, I tried telling myself t-that it was healthier for you if I just left you alone.” Jack carefully acknowledged. “But t-then Bucky emailed me that picture and I just- ” He sucked in a breath, blowing it out gingerly. “I couldn’t stop thinking of you, but then I-I knew that if I called you and you didn’t pick up, it would destroy me. T-that I tried and you didn’t hear me out, that was something I wouldn’t have been able to handle.”

Brock narrowed his eyes slightly, but he found himself empathizing to the story anyway. Of course, this was Jack, the one person able to charm Brock at any given turn. He was immune to Brock’s scrutiny no matter what, it made everything that much harder for Brock to handle though there was an honesty in his eyes, earnest and raw, an expression that Brock knew from their past.

“I was stalking social media for anything about you, Brock.” Jack confessed with a nervous laugh. “I was so caught up in _you_, I even began to make those origami paper cranes. You know, that Japanese legend about making a thousand of them and it would grant you a wish..except I knew you’d prefer lions so I started to make lions, b-but then I knew it probably wouldn’t work so I stopped around fifty, plus they were hard work.”

Jack nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Wow, now I sound crazy and desperate.”

A soft fluffy looking layer of snow collected along the shoulders of Jack’s leather jacket, and all over his dark hair. Brock couldn’t help himself but brush it all off, lost in his own head about what Jack was telling him.

“Yeah, ya do sound pretty crazy, and desperate.”

Jack nodded, a wince across his features as he stepped backwards and Brock missed him already. There was something in his eyes, like a mild hurt, not that Brock could really understand what Jack expected when all of this was his own doing. For all he knew, this was all a brilliant set up to leave him one last time like some kind of sadistic plot for closure. Maybe he wanted to poison the one achievement Brock worked hard for since Jack left that night, and yet, he had immediately believed him about the fifty origami lions all in a row on Jack’s coffee table, most likely staring like they were a mockery of failure to some grand romantic plan.

Brock was unsure of what exactly to say.

Jack studied him, his hands rubbing together from the chill that clearly ran through his entire body but was making an attempt to hide it before he nodded to himself in thought.

“Before you s-shut me out for good, Brock. At least let me thank you for existing my whole life. I don’t remember much of what I was thinking back then but I s-stuttered a lot when I was a kid, you knew that. And you knew how I went selectively mute when I couldn’t deal with traumatic t-things. Maybe I looked alright on the outside but inside, I d-didn’t realize how much work I’d have to do on myself, how much t-time it would take.” He blinked a couple times in thought before his gaze met Brock’s. “Mainly, I didn’t know t-things would get better for me, that in some sort of weird sense I was slowly hurting myself and causing unnecessary stress instead of trying to f-fix anything.”

He stepped in closer. “I didn’t, and n-no one else knew those things either..except you. It’s like you took me in and you managed to m-mend me enough to be whole again, Brock.”

Tears welled in Brock’s eyes, it was impossible to stop them anymore. It was all he wanted Jack to know and he  _ knew _ that Jack knew, but it was more emotional when he was stating it plain as day out loud. His hand came up, the heel of it drying away his cheeks. “We were best friends, Jack. Of course I wanted to make shit better.”

“No.” Jack stated simply, the softness of each snowflake had gradually shifted his mossy eyes to a pale light olive that Brock had forgotten how much he loved. “There was more to it than that for the b-both of us.” He closed in the small minuscule bit of space they still had, Jack’s hand forming a partial fist so his knuckles gingerly brushed away at fresh tears running down Brock’s face. “We’re t-t-two people that love each other so strongly, it hurts. And we always have, no matter what’s going on between us.”

His heart clenching from Jack’s words really caused him actual physical pain and Brock glanced away towards the sidewalk. He was still unsure of what to do and completely afraid that this was all a horrible trap at his expense.

“Please, Brock.” Jack pleaded, his voice haggard. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but I d-do love you.”

Even if he wanted to accept things, there was no way he could allow Jack into his home where he wanted to get to so badly, the one space in his world that hadn’t been invaded by his physical presence and he wasn’t willing to start now, especially after all the help he had to clean it up after he had his meltdown.  


He liked it the way it was now, everything was still the same. Natasha had a favorite blanket she bought to leave there, Clint had a coffee mug he just _ had _ to use if he was over, half of Bucky’s closet was in Brock’s, Lucky had his own food bowls waiting to be used, even TJ left toys and books around. Pepper never left anything around, she was too good to do that, but Brock always knew she had a presence, that if shit really hit the fan, she’d be on standby to make sure he knew he was still important.

“I can’t have my heart broken a third time, Jack.” Brock sighed.

Jack went quiet for a long moment, gale winds picking up. He lifted his head to peer at him before he glanced to the side. “I was going to p-propose to you..”

Now Brock was sure he heard him wrong, his shoulders tensing up. “What?”

Jack shook his head, seemingly sorting his thoughts. “I realized I was being selfish when it all boiled d-down to it.”

Brock’s face fell. “How, how do I know ya won’t leave again?”

“You won’t.” Jack chewed at the corner of his lip, thinking. Eventually their eyes met again. “I can only promise to try and communicate b-better.”

For once in Brock’s life when it came to Jack, he decided he had to show a level of restraint despite how much he really did believe him.

“Ya need to go.”

Jack was startled, and Brock stepped back from him as he put a hand up to stop him from saying another word. “I need space from ya, this don’t mean we’re done talkin’ but it’s fuckin’ cold out ‘ere Jack, I’m worn the fuck out and I ain’t gonna decide what I want right on the damn spot.”

He turned around and marched towards the cabs finally, tapping at the passenger side window before he opened the backseat door, gesturing for Jack to get in. “Go. I’ll call ya when I figure shit out. Yer makin’ my head hurt and I need sleep.”

“Brock- ” Jack called as he approached the car.

“_Go_, Rollins. Before I decide you ain’t worth shit to me anymore. Give me a fuckin’ break fer once, after all the crap you caused, ya owe me a lot.”

Jack seemed like he wanted to argue some more, probably knew it was like poking a bear but since he had him now, clearly he was desperate to get something out of it. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut as he climbed into the backseat but pressed a hand to the door to keep it open, peering up.

“Promise me.”

Scoffing with a roll of his eyes, Brock went to slam the door but was stopped forcefully from doing so, irritating him a little.

“P-promise me, Brock.”

Huffing out a heavy sigh and watching the way his breath fogged out and disappeared into the sky, it was too cold to keep hanging around. “I fuckin’ promise, asshole.”

They were frozen in some kind of standoff until Jack finally understood the message that it was the best he would get. Begrudgingly he shut the door closed and refused to look away until the taxi was turning at the lights.

Brock allowed his shoulders to relax when Jack was completely gone from view, all the emotions he wasn’t able to bring out no matter how mad he was escaped him in a kind of whoosh. When he approached the next cab in line, he had a feeling that as soon as he sat down inside, he would barely manage to get out again and make it to his front door after all the shit that just happened.

Back inside his apartment, Brock couldn’t be bothered to even get the lights, trudging his way through with only the hope that he didn’t knock anything over, while his bag hit the floor somewhere between the couch and the hallway. He couldn’t even give a shit to clean himself up, stripping himself down to his boxers and crawling into bed. He didn’t cry like he thought he might, he was too exhausted for that too. He only slept so deeply that even dreams had no chance to pay him a visit.

*****

Despite everything Jack had said last night, Brock woke up shaking, as if his entire body had issues understanding what had happened in a nightmare he’d just woken up from. He ignored calls and texts about his win, avoided social media and only let his coach know he’d made it home and gave him a quick explanation that he wasn’t going to come in for the day. It was enough to play it off as his mind was recovering from everything the past week still and he needed to stay in tonight; Masters held that level of concern he was harboring since the meltdown and hoped he’d see him the day after. It was nice he cared a lot in his own way, getting off the call feeling better about just needing a time out.

He found Jack’s phone number on a slip of paper tucked in a faded old black book he’d held on to forever that he never used. It was the same place he hid it the first time he added it back after arriving home but then removed. It was so stupid, keeping it after the night he had decided to delete his number the first time, it was a just in case thing, if there was an emergency and had no one else to call. He sat on the floor in the middle of his living room and stared at it for too long before ultimately deciding he wouldn’t call him, not yet at least. He needed time and reminded himself that he was the one who deserved it, to think and sort everything out, there’d be no way he could do that if Jack was in the same room.

A couple days later Jack actually made the bold move to call him, though Brock only ignored it. He followed up the next day, and by that time Natasha had known everything that had been going on and supported him on his decision on going his own pace.

In Brock’s internal dilemma of making a decision to be with Jack for good versus taking all his baggage and throwing it in his face to make their break up permanent, another week passed on and suddenly Bucky and Steve were back in town again. Sam arranged a last minute get together at his and Riley’s shared apartment, and despite Brock’s apprehension when he was informed Jack was also invited, he wanted to be there no matter what would end up happening. He was more than a little glad Jack had the brilliance to say he was too busy with work and apologized over the fact that he wouldn’t be able to attend.   


Unfortunately the outcome also made Brock feel a pang of shame that he unwittingly forced Jack away from their mutual friends because he still hadn’t made any sort of contact with him despite Jack leaving absent texts that he’d read before deciding once more that he wouldn’t respond. He really wanted him to soak in it, and Brock wanted to feel superior, at least for a little while.

“You know that dumb line, follow your heart?”

Brock glanced over at her after a few too many stabs at his steak, seated in a restaurant a day after the party. TJ reached over to steal another forkful of garlic mashed potatoes from him, putting it onto his plate next to his mini pizza and salad.

“You’re doing it, and you keep doing it. Only you’ll know when you’re ready, Brock.” She took a sip of her cocktail, her eyes darting over to TJ’s mini snowman creation with the potatoes, a piece of crust hanging out of his mouth. “I’m happy he’s giving you space and you haven’t evolved any of those texts I know you’re getting from him into some late night mistake. TJ, eat your dinner.”

Brock raised a brow at her. There’d been a few weak moments where Jack’s random goodnight text made Brock wanna call him to say hi because  _ maybe  _ he was desperate and lonely, and  _ maybe _ a little horny. He was proud of himself for not stooping so low; Natasha didn’t need to throw shade his way knowing he contemplated doing it though.

“What do I wear for work?!” TJ suddenly burst out, distracting Brock’s inner thoughts, his eyes widening in slight panic. “I don’t want Jack angry at me!”

It was Brock’s turn to glance his way, reaching a hand out to pat TJ’s wrist softly. “Jackie ain’t gonna be mad, no matter what ya do, kiddo. Yer gonna put on a nice shirt, some comfortable jeans or a nice pair of pants and that’s it.”

“Oh, like I wear already when we go out!”

Natasha nodded along. “Exactly. Remember, he’s going to get you your own apron to wear with the bakery name and your very own name tag too, are you excited for that?”

Grey blue eyes brightened and Brock couldn’t help smiling no matter how upset he felt about TJ’s good news. He felt terrible about the reaction, though a part of him just couldn’t let go of the fact that Jack was taking up some of his valuable TJ visiting time by giving him a chance to work at the bakery. It felt almost spiteful even though Natasha gave him a dirty look for even thinking that like she could immediately read his mind, which..with the way she predicted most things he was thinking about, he started to wonder. And he knew Jack, knew him enough to know there was no malice behind it, he only wanted TJ to feel special and have a chance to be like everyone else in the world, plus he would get his own paychecks and that would have given him a sense of pride he deserved without Bucky worrying about how he was being treated.

Still, Brock felt a little sore that while he was keeping his space from Jack, Jack was still affecting his life somehow.

“I’m super excited! He says I’m gonna get to help customers and help Wanda, I love helping Wanda! And I get to put out and write on his chalkboard sign with the specials, and I get to make sure everything is neat and tidy. I’m super good at that! Buck says I have a talent for it, he never has to ask me to clean up my toys or make my bed and Jack said I can have a snack from all the millions of desserts and sandwiches he sells whenever I’m hungry, isn’t that lucky? I’m so lucky!”

Brock and Natasha laughed, TJ’s energy infectious and so powerfully positive. “Ya sure are, yer gonna be the best employee he’s got. He was smart to nab ya when he did.”

“What will you buy with your first check, TJ?” Natasha asked, spearing a couple of half cut cherry tomatoes from her pasta. “I bet you have a lot of ideas.”

TJ almost went cross-eyed at the mere thought, biting into another slice of his pizza, mouth partially full as he shook his head. “I don’t know! I could buy a whole candy store!”

Barking out a laugh, Brock ruffled TJ’s hair before he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, retrieving it to find Jack had left him a text that simply said hi.   


It was instinct now to have a quick look around before putting his phone away as if he’d be in the same restaurant, he was sure Jack wouldn’t have done it, not while they were in this situation and he allowed himself to relax, a smile crossed his lips. His ex was so weird, but it was a weird he really loved.

Brock let his mind wander about what more he could think about, he kind of already wanted to see Jack, to really gauge a second meet up and observe if he was just as desperate as the first time. He could feel Natasha watching him as she spoke to TJ and he proceeded to cut into his steak finally, savoring the now lukewarm but still tasty bite just to appease her so he wouldn’t get lectured about food waste.

His thoughts came back to TJ, and how he’d be working there at the bakery, how he’d like to visit and see them both at the same time like back when he hung out at the apartment. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, this time with the knowledge that they’d both try to be open and honest with each other. He wasn’t completely sold that Jack would do that, and he himself was still at a stage where getting Jack back overruled rational, proper thinking.

Still, it wasn’t like any of his friends talked him against giving Jack a second chance. It was his choice first and foremost but they were still open to them starting fresh and making it work; no one thought it was an awful idea but everyone was adamant they get their shit figured out as a top priority and Brock was right there with them, he was sure so was Jack.

If Jack really was serious, he would never fuck up this badly again.

It was how he had ended up across the street from Every Bread You Take, hidden away in a stuffed antique shop pretending he was interested in an armchair by the front window while the old man was busy putting random knick knacks away and told Brock to give him a shout if he needed any assistance.

Sure, he definitely needed help, not just the kind the owner was offering.

Brock made his move when Wanda was waving at Jack as she was leaving the shop. Jack gave her a wave back before returning to the task at hand of wiping down the table he was cleaning up, a dish bin tucked under his free arm as he slipped a saucer into it. When Brock was positive it was only Jack left, he approached the door, briskly crossing the street when Jack’s back was turned and cleaning up the condiments area at the back wall.

He made it to the door, hesitating to reach for it when Jack turned and his curious expression shifted to shock, clearly startled like he’d seen a ghost. Suddenly Brock didn’t want to get the door, dropping his hand away and unsure of if he still wasn’t ready for this.

Jack was at the door in a few quick long strides, pulling it open as he stood there staring at him and Brock shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders stiffening a little.

“Brock.” Jack stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. “Please, come in. It’s freezing out there.”

There was something in Jack’s eyes, the surprise suddenly replaced with hopefulness, and Brock stepped inside, letting Jack close the door behind him and lock it, flipping the open sign to closed. It looked better in person than any picture he’d seen people take, because he may have been snooping around on google a little to get to know the bakery just before he arrived. It was cozy without being too small and really welcoming. The rustic feel gave him vibes of something homely he’d run into back in Italy whenever he’d go visit. He already felt like he wanted to be here longer than just for tonight.

“Uh, I didn’t expect you here.” Jack admitted, palming his hands uneasily against his outer thighs.

“Yeah, that’s the point of a surprise visit I figure.” Brock quipped back with a smirk. He finally took in the perfectly wonderful smells permeating around the room and it felt so familiar, like when it was just the two of them living together.

Jack chuckled. “W-would you like some coffee? It’s still hot.”

“Uh, yeah sure.”

Gesturing for him to take a seat wherever, Brock took one closeby to him but away from the front doors. He watched Jack fiddle around a little, desserts still in their displays and hoped it wasn’t too much of a bother coming in like this when clearly Jack was still working on closing up. He wiggled out of his leather jacket, half turned to drape it against the back of his chair when Jack returned, setting two coffee cups down that sat on saucers and then a cupcake was placed before him, chocolate with thick frosting and a healthy drizzle of melted chocolate over top. He could smell the peanut butter off it before it really came back to him what he was seeing and he couldn’t help lift his brows a little.

“Ya sell this one?”

“Choconutter.” Jack confirmed, dropping into the chair across from him. “I kept the name, hope you don’t mind.”

Brock reached for the cream and sugar, a little speechless. Choconutter was a stupid name he made up for Jack’s Reese’s stuffed cupcakes. He’d do them on special occasions because peanut butter and chocolate together was Brock’s one vice in life — besides Jack. A small Reese’s cup was baked inside a chocolate cupcake, topped with peanut butter icing and a melted chocolate drizzle. All this time and Jack was selling the one cupcake Brock knew would get him thinking about their past together.

“It was a coping mechanism.” Jack explained suddenly. “They were the one thing that you loved, I mean..I k-know you enjoyed what I did but you loved that one the most and it cheered me up. It made me feel like you were around, you know? It sounds dumb, saying it out loud, but it just helped.” He sipped at his coffee, thoughtful a moment. “And then I tried to remove it from the rotation and p-people kept asking for it, I had no choice but to bring it back. I didn’t mind, though it didn’t help me in forgetting about you.”

“And no one has any idea?”

Jack shook his head. “I was a little embarrassed to even admit it to Wanda how I came up with it. Because saying, I keep making these cupcakes because my ex-boyfriend loves them so much and they remind me of him, sounds really logical and not at all p-p-p- “ He rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Pathetic.”

Brock wondered if maybe they weren’t that different while they were apart, splitting the cupcake in half the best he could after meticulously removing the wrapper before offering one side to Jack. There was a moment of hesitation before he accepted it and Brock stared at the cupcake, good memories flooding in as he took a bite. It was messy to eat and it took a moment to notice Jack watching him lick the chocolate and frosting off his fingers; if Brock made a small show of it, no one had to know, besides it served Jack right anyway.

Jack swallowed, Brock watching the bob of his adam’s apple before eyes averted and it was fun having an upper hand after so long, he watched him reach up to rub the back of his neck as he glanced out the window. “You never did play fair.”

Brock shrugged. “You deserve it.”

Turning back his way, Jack’s green eyes met his and it was hard to make jokes like that, with how in love he was with him and how much he did believe Jack despite all the pain and misery he caused.

“Yeah, I do deserve it.” He lightly drummed his fingers against the side of his cup. “So, I assume this is more than a drop in to surprise me with a visit.”

They were silent, an uneasy tension between them as Jack clearly worried this may be the end and Brock tried to make sure he was making the right decision. He must have been taking too long, Jack abruptly pulling himself out of his chair and collecting their dishes together. Brock hadn’t even realized his coffee was finished off with how much time he drew out and Jack blinked back a few times as he turned, trying to hide that expression of dread on him.

Under the pot lights of his bakery, Jack looked more vulnerable than he had ever seen him. There was a fear there when usually he was void of feelings, holding them all within him and saved for only people he held close to him. Brock hated what he was seeing.

He stared after Jack, back to him as he placed the dishes onto the front counter and that old impulse to chase him wasn’t there anymore. He felt different now, something had changed between them. Here he was given the chance to have his happy ending and yet he hesitated. Brock still loved Jack so deeply but his legs refused to get up from his chair.

Brock went back to their two years apart again and again, how they were at the last leg of their relationship before Jack tore them apart. How crazy he drove himself wondering what was real between them and what was something he only imagined and if everything he kept in his head was just made up to keep his sanity.

Jack was so close, in the same room as him and he assumed Brock was seconds from letting him down; Brock would have done so by being gentle and sweet but firm, acknowledging his visit as a final one and that they were going to live their lives as two separate people never to be together ever again. That Jack was much too late to mend the bridge he so eagerly burned down.

And yet, the thought of waking up another morning without Jack lying next to him caused Brock’s hands to feel clammy and his stomach to lurch uncomfortably. Jack had given him a chance this time to sort out his feelings, had given him a chance to chew him out and kick him when he was opening himself up, to explain what he was trying to do was for Brock’s benefit and not his.

He understood that finally, after a long night of drinking and repeating it over and over in his head like a puzzle he couldn’t solve, the answer was there; it was too simple yet finally _it made so much sense_. That was Jack’s thought process, not his, and only Jack would love him so deeply that he’d stupidly believe letting him go was the only way to help.

An absent protest left his lips and he was up on his feet, moving towards Jack who began to turn back around his way. Their eyes met, and Brock was struck hard with that wave of feelings only Jack gave him, nearly falling to his knees under the sudden weight of his stress and anxiety. Anger came in with happiness, fears lingering at the back of his mind of what could happen between them in the future, but nothing else could be compared to the hope he felt over all of it.

“Brock?”

Brock stopped, only a few feet from him. He wanted them to work, he wanted Jack so much but..

“Ya hurt me real bad, Jack. I don’t know if I can trust you again..”

Jack nodded in understanding, but it was clear he was disappointed. “I know I don’t deserve your t-trust again. No matter what I felt, I shouldn’t have led you along, even if at the time I thought we could give it another go. I only ended up chickening out over and over again, hurting you in the process. Especially that last t-time, when we got into bed.”

Brock agreed, but he moved in a step closer. That hope still burning strongly. “But I still love you- ”

“I lied.” Jack interrupted.

A nervousness kicked in, Brock bracing himself for the worst. What was Jack going to say? That he had a secret boyfriend all this time while they were trying to communicate to each other? That he was still unsure of things after all this? That his announcement to propose was just to clinch his attention? He suddenly felt ill, a hand sweeping over his stomach before he dropped it to his side.

Jack saw the worry and like old times, he shook his head reassuringly, carefully reaching out to touch Brock’s face. His hand felt heavy but it was safe and familiar against his skin.

“At that fireside thing on the beach, when we played Never Have I Ever, I lied. I was just t-trying so hard to let you go, to..I guess scare you off too, so that it was easier, though obviously I should have done t-that before we all got together.” Jack rambled.

Brock realized what Jack was getting to, a warmth of excitement blooming within his chest at the slowburn of realization. “Ya lied about bein’ in love with someone in the group.”

Jack suddenly looked relieved, like he didn’t have to trip up and beat around the bush about it. He relaxed like he’d removed a large weight off his shoulders. “Yeah, Brock. More s-specifically, you. Like I said before, I’ve always been head over heels, stupidly in love with you. I knew I was never g-going to be able to let you go, but I loved you too much to not let you grow, it would have been selfish of me.”

That anger came back again, reminding Brock of the fact that he was never given a _choice_.  


“What was selfish was not talkin’ to me about it, and makin’ the decision for the both of us. But you already knew that, Jack.”

“Yeah, I know, and I am sorry but like I said before, you did better for yourself on your own than with me. You’re famous in your own right, t-took care of yourself.”

Brock felt the tears rushing in and he thought again about why he was here —were they bound to keep going around in circles? “And ya fuckin’ broke my heart to do it! Was it worth it, Jack?!”

For the first time after breaking up, outside of their night together, Jack’s eyes glistened with a rawness he didn’t see out on the streets of New York. He knew out there, waiting for him in the cold, did show how vulnerable he was, but there was something else here, something about how in their private moment together, where Brock knew Jack..the one he knew in the past, the one he was always going to be in love with. He saw him again once more like it was old times.

“No, it wasn’t. If I had a choice, if I was s-smarter, I would have never decided to let you go. I would have proposed to you instead, I woulda gone into our bedroom that night, r-rummaged through the inside pocket of that heavy winter coat I keep right in the back, found that little black box- ” Jack dug into his jeans pocket as he spoke and retrieved a small ring box, immediately Brock’s demeanor shifted and he couldn’t help frowning, his brow going up in question. He was ignored as Jack opened it and knelt down on one knee, licking his lips. “I would have dropped on my knee like this instead, held up this b-box before you so you saw it and had the time to realize what it was- ”

“Jack, what the fuck are ya d- ”

Taking in an uneasy breath before exhaling again, Jack raised the small box a little higher. “Brock Anthony Rumlow, I know we have baggage and w-w-w- ” Jack winced at his flub before dropping his head forward a second then slowly looked back up again. “We have to sort that all out, but I can’t live my life without you and I always want to be there for you. I m-mean that. We’ve been going through our lows, let me give you the highs and fix all the damage I’ve done. I promise to talk everything out with you and t-to remind you that you can do better and to not settle on comfortable, because you’re m-more than just being in a relationship that you’re happy in. You’re a fighter, you’re strong and a spitfire. You’re stubborn and a p-pain in my ass too but..”

Jack drew in another deep breath and Brock was still reeling over the fact that Jack was in the middle of his bakery, bent down on one knee before him.

“I can’t live without you, Brock. Even with the bakery, my one big dream in life next to you being with me, I barely lived. I want to spend my l-life with you, I want to wake up to you every single day and love you like you deserve to be l-loved. Will you marry m-me?”

Brock stepped back, more on instinct and surprise to the words that came out of his mouth, his own partially open to say something despite nothing willing to come out. The disappointment across Jack’s face was immediate and despite the initial satisfaction slipping in that he was finally able to really hurt Jack at least a little, no matter the harbored pain, Brock didn’t want Jack to feel that way. They had a lot to fix and mend, but he also knew Jack enough to believe he meant every word he said.

As Jack made a move to stand, to close the ring box in quiet shame, Brock stepped forward, closer than he originally was and it jarred Jack to stay still on that one knee. Plucking the ring out, Brock stared at the thick band of onyx down the center with thin silver at each side and gave it a smile before he held it out.

“C’mon then, put it on me.”

Jack looked at the ring, dubious for a moment, like he’d been waiting for Brock to trick him, knew Jack wouldn’t have faulted him for it either.

“D-do you mean it?” Jack asked, his voice soft and understandingly scared. It was such a long time ago that Brock heard him sound that way, not since Jack had asked him if he’d like to move in with him.

Brock nodded. “Now listen, I ain’t marryin’ ya ‘til we get all our shit sorted out, but yeah, Jack. Yeah, I wanna marry yer dumbass and deal with all yer stupid shit ‘til the day we fuckin’ die.”

Huffing out a small, surprised laugh, Jack blinked in surprise, the rims of his eyes a blotchy as he rose back up to his feet and took Brock’s hand, the ring easily slipping onto his finger though seemingly half a size too large. Still, it fit and Brock felt overwhelmed at the moment, his throat tightening.

“Shit, it fuckin’ fits still.”

“It looks like we’re going to h-have to get it tightened a little bit, but yeah Rums, it still fits.” Jack croaked out.

Brock paused, staring at him for a moment. He hadn’t heard Jack call him that for a long time and he’d forgotten how comforting it sounded coming from him, how much he missed it. “I came ‘ere to take ya back, now I’m fuckin’ engaged. How the hell did ya turn this around on me?”

“I didn’t.” Jack whispered, clearly still surprised. “I j-just hoped. I was willing to make an ass out of myself and I know we aren’t ready, but I wanted to promise you that I d-do. I wanted to marry you when we were kids, Brock. I mean it.”

Jack’s eyes stayed fixated on how the ring looked on him and Brock couldn’t help but laugh, gathering Jack’s face between his hands and finally they locked eyes for a long lingering moment before leaning in at the same time for the kiss they’d been yearning to have for far too long.  


After the initial  _ happy they’re back together and engaged _ kiss wore off, Jack surged forward once he regained some kind of balance to start another kiss, this time more hungry, making the most out of every second.

Brock’s arms wrapped tight around Jack’s neck, so painfully tight despite no protests as he returned his passion. Jack grabbed onto his hips, pulling Brock impossibly closer, and for just a moment, it felt like they were back in time and nothing wrong had happened to them.

It was unclear when they pulled apart, everything happened so fast. Brock struggled to catch his breath as his forehead rested against Jack’s, his hands tangled into the ends of Jack’s hair and gripping it gently. The tip of his nose traced the scar at side of Jack’s face, and he kept his eyes closed so tightly wishing none of this was a dream.

“It’s not.” Jack whispered against him, lips pressing firmly to his temple. “I had all the stars with you, I want them back.”

*****

Brock was in bed again, even with his eyes squeezed tightly closed knew the crisp feel of his sheets and the feather down blanket he’d started using for the Winter. The only difference was the solid weight of a body sprawled over him, could feel Jack’s gaze steadily watching him as stayed slotted between Brock’s legs with his arms bracketing his sides. This time around they weren’t getting naked, it was a little foreign especially with the way their kisses promised more unbridled passion once they got into his place, but Jack didn’t, _he refused_, as much as their bodies pressed in and chased friction against his living room wall and the way Brock moaned was knowingly driving Jack insane.

Instead of the lack of clothes, they were in soft ones; Jack in terrible plaid sleep pants and a heather grey shirt, Brock in one of his multitude of black tanks and blue cotton shorts. He was remembering every single detail of their night, just in case, because if Jack couldn’t do this there was no coming back again.

Jack’s hand, warm and tender, cupped the side of his jaw as he pressed another kiss against his cheek, then a few more along his nose. It was the longest silence they’d kept between them tonight and Brock worked up the courage to open his eyes again. Jack was there, still staring at him like he was worth the world and he was taken aback by it. Jack slid his other arm underneath, sliding against the small of Brock’s back as he held him possessively close and there was so much raw emotion in something so simple that even if his muscles were sore and under a small bit of protest, Brock welcomed it back with open arms.

Jack was so soft in his eyes, a fragment of fear in them too despite the ring Brock still wore with the back of his knuckles tracing over and over again at the scar Jack picked up in a car accident that should have killed him. He was lucky and every so often Brock needed to touch it, to trace it with his fingers and feel it there, thankful to  _ whatever was up there _ that they had given Jack a second chance, that Jack came back to him again and it was something he always hated to talk about, or even recall on. But that fear was there still with Jack, afraid this would all be pulled out from under him, away from him and Brock would turn the tables on everything so he would hurt over the abandonment for a change.

“A part of me wishes I could hate ya, Jackie, but instead I kept hurtin’ because I loved ya too damn hard. Still do.”

Jack brows came in together as he nodded, pressing his face into Brock’s chest and he couldn’t help tangle fingers into dark locks because of it, missed doing that too, especially as it grew a bit more out. They couldn’t be up like this for too much longer, his own eyes feeling heavy and yet he didn’t want to sleep ever again.

Raking his fingers through Jack’s hair, Brock stared down at him. “Tell me again.”

He waited, holding his breath in anticipation as Jack was still a few seconds before he glanced up and the light from the hall draped across his face. Those damn green eyes always got to him and Brock was desperate, clutching at those shoulders.

Jack pushed himself up, propping himself up on elbows as he moved in to cup Brock’s face again like he was a piece of glass art only held together by sheer will, that it was threatening to implode at any moment if he was mishandled the wrong way. Brock hated how true it was.

“I-I love you.” Jack promised, earnest and raw. His voice was low but was steady. “You’re worth more than anything else in this world to me. I’m never letting you go again.”

Brock laughed to hide the way he wanted to cry, letting himself be pulled tighter into Jack’s arms. With his face buried in the crook of Jack’s neck, they laid there holding each other for an immeasurable amount of time. Outside he could hear the howlish wail of the wind as snow fell heavily; they’d barely had enough time to drive over before it got too blinding. Right then though, while that was going to trap them inside, Brock only listened to the honest and pure beat of Jack’s heart.

Fingers gently raked through Brock’s hair, and he learned into Jack’s touch, reveling in it. They laid in lingering silence, too tired to find the right words. Brock wondered if anything would ever be enough, if they would ever be able to fully forgive each other for both being equally stupid for different things.

He dropped his head back to look up and curious green eyes were staring down at him. There was a pull, a burst of something deep in his chest that he almost couldn’t handle, and he felt overwhelmed. Jack shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, reading him too perfectly.

“Say it.” Brock whispered. “Jack, I gotta hear it again.”

“Brock.” Jack said as he pretended to roll his eyes, a tender smile crept across his face.

“Again.” Brock repeated, more demanding.

Jack pushed himself up just enough so that he was hovering over his face. Slowly, he leaned in to rest their foreheads against one another and they stared at each other through the dim light. Brock felt like he could breathe once more, like they were tucked away in a different realm of reality for just the both of them to stay like this forever, Jack so warm and the heat of his body encompassed him entirely.

“I love you, Brock Rumlow,” Jack promised, leaning in to press another kiss to his lips. “I’ve spent most of my life not understanding what a soulmate meant, what the feeling was supposed to be like, and then you were gone and I realized it’s always been you.”

Brock soaked in the words, feeling the warmth spreading through his body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thanks all the elements that led them to this point, he didn’t want to suffer ever again like he did before it all came to a head, but he thanked it finally being over. Especially Bucky and Steve for getting married in the first place, because if they hadn’t brought them together, Brock wasn’t sure Jack would have tried and he probably wouldn’t have either.

“Jack.” Brock started, his thoughts trying to sort themselves out. “I gotta- ” An apology crept to his lips, like he wanted to admit something he did wrong, he was sure his attitude together and apart weren’t ideal and he had to say _something_.

“No, you don’t.” Jack assured him. “You don’t have to say anything right now. W-we’ll figure it all out soon enough.”

Brock laughed, helpless to how calm Jack was now, an easiness to him that clearly had been trying to come out because that’s who he naturally was. Always the balm to Brock’s excitable energy, a perfect way they had of balancing each other out. There was definitely time to talk soon like Jack said, he assured himself, when they would be rested and had time to think properly through everything they wanted to say to one another. Accepting it, all Brock wanted to do right then anyway was to snuggle against Jack and stay as bodily close as he possibly could for the night, especially with how the weather was turning out, and be thankful that this nightmare seemed to be over. Also bask in the fact that he was engaged, not that he wanted to gloat too outwardly about that until they put everything out on the table..still, he’d be a fucking liar if he said he wasn’t hoping for Jack to propose one day.

He understood it was really quick, and with what happened, a big decision, but Jack was always his number one. Even when he tried to be malicious toward him, he was still fighting to be kind and sweet, that didn’t mean he wasn’t stupid as fuck for doing what he did, but they could fix that and he believed that, he had to.

He still felt uneasy though. Brock could not quite close his eyes fully, found himself watching Jack through hooded lids like he would disappear into thin air at any moment. Jack slowly relaxed against him, the side of his head against his chest but Brock’s body remained tense.

“Relax.” He felt Jack press a kiss into the fabric of his tee, directly over his heart. “I p-promise, I’m not going anywhere.”

Brock nodded shakily. Jack was fully aware of the wariness and he noticed his in the way his stuttering hadn’t completely left him. It meant he was just as anxious as he was, just better at hiding it. Jack’s hand softly stroked Brock’s side in a steady, gentle motion in an attempt to calm him down just as he did when they were younger and he’d climb through Jack’s window when his dad was too drunk to see straight and he’d only tell his best friend that his dad’s constant noises kept him awake at night. Too embarrassed to admit getting beat up or kicked out, and home was better than any replacement they’d send him to. He always knew Jack saw right through his bullshit, cleaned him up if needed before they climbed into bed and Jack laid his body over his protectively, the solid weight helping Brock sleep while anxiety seeped out with every comforting stroke to his side.

“We’ll be f-fine.” Jack assured him, his voice vibrating against Brock’s chest. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Brock smiled, his arms wrapped tighter around Jack’s back. They further into each other, and Brock let himself shelve those fears aside for now and numb away. Jack’s fingers slipped beneath Brock’s t-shirt, large hand exploring the skin stretched across his ribs.

“I know.” Brock hummed sleepily, “I love ya too ya know. Always did and always will.”

Shifting up to press a kiss to Brock’s forehead, Jack settled against his shoulder and Brock let his eyes close to the feel of Jack’s nose brushing along his jaw. They drifted off, wrapped up in one another to the sound of their breathing as it slowed into a quiet sync that it always had long before.

When Brock awoke somewhere in the mid-afternoon, Jack’s sleep heavy body continued to lay over his chest. His lips ghosted against the side of Brock’s neck and both arms were tucked under Brock’s shoulders in a way that should have bothered Brock but he really didn’t notice it until now. One of Brock’s hands were still tangled in Jack’s hair so he supposed neither of them really did much caring and as Jack began to stir, he made no attempt to pull away. Instead, Jack snuggled even closer, pressing his face into his skin like an oversized puppy, and Brock tried not to twitch at the ticklish sensation of his facial hair all the while listening to the absent murmuring in his sleep.

“Brock.” Jack mumbled before he nosed at his throat and settled again, going quiet a few long seconds before he turned his head to rest the other side of his face against Brock’s chest. “Love you.”

Brock felt his face flush and he smiled stupidly wide. So badly he wanted to shake Jack awake and kiss him stupid but he stayed as impossibly still as he could even if his body protested over it, not able to stay still for very long now that he was awake.

He just wanted this as it was for now. There was no telling what the rest of the day would bring, if their conversation for their future together would get difficult and may bring out an argument or two, or what obstacles they might still need to overcome. The only thing that Brock knew for certain was that he would fight harder than he’d ever had in his life to have Jack by his side, and the same seemed to go along with him. Thoughtful, Brock stared out the window at the snow pressed up against the glass, he knew in his heart he was willing to let go of the past because he really did believe Jack thought he was trying to help him grow up.

Jack’s arms slipped out from under him, only to wind around Brock’s ribs and squeeze him almost breathless in the process as he wandered back to sleep. Maybe, Brock thought, Jack was right. That everything was going to be fine now in their future together and that everything before only happened so things would go the right way in time. Brock’s fingers softly brushed through Jack’s hair and he absently smiled, it was only the present that really did matter between them, and harboring what all happened in the past would only destroy them all over again. They were in some ways two different people, but also still the same two beings that connected so strongly that even they couldn’t tear each other apart.

It was what they were to each other, a force no one could explain and Brock’s gaze caught the glint of the ring on his finger, staring at it for a long moment. Jack stirred again and Brock knew soon they were going to have to talk, and the funny thing was that for once in his life, Brock was looking forward to it.

He finally felt he could say that he was okay without lying about it; he could finally sense the strength of how they were going to be fine together.

Brock let his eyes slip closed, waiting for Jack to wake up. No matter how much of their day was gone because they stayed in bed, it was still a perfect first day and more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading and enjoying the art! Feel free to leave a comment if you'd like to offer your thoughts, take care! 💙💙💙


End file.
